Telling Tales
by Estel Baggins
Summary: Okay, it's me again. I fixed what Richie needed fixed, so here's the next bit. I hope Virgil enjoys this. He'd better, after all the trouble we've all gone to make it just right.
1. Virgil's Diary and Richie's Book

Title: Telling Tales

Author: Estel Baggins

Rating: R (for safety's sake)

Pairing: Richie/Brainiac, Virgil/Richie

Summary: This is the behind-the-scenes action for the episode where Static Shock, Gear and the Justice League team up to battle Brainiac. You needn't have seen the episode, though, or know anything about Static Shock to enjoy this.

Warnings: rape, mild swearing, abuse

Author's Note: The title is a tip of the hat to a chapter in a Stephen King novel. Ten Brownie points to anyone who can name the book.

Table of Contents

This is for your convenience so you aren't thrown by the changes of character and perspective. If you wish to be surprised, please ignore this little thing. Its use is inspired by the format of Stephen King's _Dark Tower_ series. Also, the table of contents isn't quite done, since the story isn't finished, so you'll see more and more of the table of contents each time you pick up a new chapter..

Book I

From the Diary of Virgil Hawkins (1)Pg. 1

With Brainiac: Forward: The Story Behind the StoryPg. 2

Chapter OnePg. 4

From the Diary of Virgil Hawkins (2)Pg. 7

Chapter TwoPg. 10

From the Diary of Virgil Hawkins (3)Pg. 16

Telling Tales

Book I

From the diary of Virgil Hawkins/Static Shock

Dear Diary,May 29th, 2003

It really isn't like me to keep a journal, but I got the idea from watching Batman work. He writes down a little about each enemy he faces so he knows how to deal with them the next time, if there is a next time. I don't think there will be in Brainiac's case. He was totaled. But here are the basics on him, anyway:

Name: Brainiac

Species: super-computer monster-thing… Nice and technical. Too bad I can't ask Richie what he thinks Brainiac was. He'd have the perfect techno-term.

Place of origin (he had no birthplace): unknown, but he showed up on Krypton, where Superman was born. Brainiac digitized all the information on Krypton, then destroyed it. He wanted to do the same to Earth, but we shut him down cold.

Purpose: Um… see Place of origin. I'll get used to organizing my thoughts eventually.

Strengths: He can control a lot of electrical systems by getting into them. He can also control people with thought-control disks that he sticks on their bodies. I won't worry about other forms of mind-control. His way of taking over Richie's mind was a special case. Most people don't have a full-blown mental connection to their robots. And, to be fair to Richie, he is only connected that way to Backpack.

Weaknesses: overconfidence is the big one here… and he's still just a computer. He can be overloaded, and he can be surprised. He doesn't think anyone is stronger than he is. Richie proved him wrong. I proved him wrong. The Justice League proved him wrong. You'd think he would have figured out that he isn't invincible after the two or three times Superman blasted him. Are my thoughts wandering? Well, they say my generation has a problem with short attention span…

I'd better never let Batman see this little log. He'd die laughing… if he could ever manage to crack a smile.

Is there anything else I need to say about Backpack… er, I mean, Brainiac? Why did I write the name of Richie's robot? Simple; that robot not only saved our lives, but almost cost Earth its existence. Also… Backpack is Richie's invention, and I can't get Richie out of my mind. He was so green around the glasses when I left him. I want him to be all right, but he's never been so jumpy or so lost-looking. Maybe I should ask Sharon to talk to him. After all, even if she is my big sister, Sharon's supposed to be a pretty good counselor.

OK, that's an end to my rambling. I'm going to go blow off a little energy. I can't sit still any longer.

With Brainiac

by: Richie Foley

Forward: The Story Behind the Story

Batman told me I would heal faster if I wrote about everything that happened between Brainiac and me, and between V and me. I don't know how Batman, the resident recluse and hermit of the Justice League, can give advice about healing and coping, but I'll try anything. I'm sick of the nightmares. And I can't pursue anything with V unless I'm whole myself. That's something Batman said, but I knew it before then. After all, I'm sixteen, and supposedly a super genius. I do know a few things.

I'll talk about V first, because he was first. His name is Virgil Hawkins, but I call him V or Virg most of the time. Two years ago (we had just entered the ninth grade) there was an explosion down by the Dakota City docks that released a huge bunch of purple gas. V was down by the docks because this guy, Wade, was trying to get him to join his gang. V's mom was killed by gang gunfire (she was a paramedic trying to help people), so V hates guns and gangs, but he was scared and so he showed up at the docks that night. Turns out it was a good thing he did. The gas gave superpowers to many of those that had been caught in it. The powers weren't good for everyone, but they were for many. V came away with power over electricity, and decided to call himself Static Shock, or just Static for short. We found him a costume (made from clothes in my closet so his dad and sister wouldn't suspect anything) and he's dedicated to fighting all the thugs who also gained superpowers during the Big Bang. (That's what the media termed the explosion, and all the meta-humans or mutants that resulted from it are called Bang Babies.)

Looks like it's my turn. My name is Richard Osgood Foley, but call me Richie. Virg and I were best friends before the Big Bang (raising some eyebrows probably because he's black and I'm white, but who cares?) and I became his tech support and sidekick afterwards. I've invented the Shock Voxes, which are a fancy name for the walkie-talkies we use to communicate while he's flying around as Static. As for sidekick, I help him with research on Bang Babies- their hideouts and connections to other metahumans- and turn detective occassionally.

Then, about four months before the incident with Brainiac (I'll get to that- fair warning) V and I discovered that I was turning into a Bang Baby because of my exposure to him right after the Big Bang. Unlike most of the other Bang Babies, though, you can't see my superpower. I was turned from a B and C student to an A-plus student, and beyond. It's now almost impossible to stay focused in class because it's so boring. Anyway, V and I went through the same process as we had when V became Static, except I fashioned my own costume alone because I had to rescue V from this Bang Baby named Ebon who thought my friend was Static. After we escaped (and Ebon was convinced that V wasn't Static) we decided to call me Gear when I'm in costume because of the all the gear (my inventions) that I carry to fight the bad guys. So now we fight as a team (even though I'm still tech support, and even more now than before).

Okay, our back story's out of the way. I would love to tell you all of our adventures before we met Brainiac, if only for the simple fact that I could put off telling about the mad supercomputer a little longer. But I've learned not to put things off, so here goes. I'll be telling this in the third person. Maybe then it won't be so confusing. And, I can't help hoping, maybe it won't hurt so much. Thoughts that Brainiac can read are shown by 'this' and thoughts that Brainiac can't read are shown by _italics_.

Chapter One

I'll gloss over all the unimportant stuff. It's easier than trying to explain every blow, near-escape and struggle. Here's the long and the short of it:

The Justice League all live on a space station out in space. While they were all floating around up there (I guess there weren't any galaxies that needed to be saved) their space station was hit by a space anomaly. The anomaly hit the station and drained all of its power. It even killed the thrusters that kept the station in orbit around Earth. The whole thing was going to crash on Earth. Batman and V have worked together before, and so Batman suggested V could regenerate the station with his electrical powers. The Justice League set out for Earth.

On Arrow Street in Dakota- that street's near to the waterfront, but a block of buildings separated the two superheroes from that escape route- Static and Gear faced off against Puff and what she called her "Boys". Puff can breathe knock-out gas, an acidic cloud, or even a paralyzing mist. She wasn't attacking, though; she was letting her boys do the work. There was Carmen Dillo, who looks like an armadillo, and is almost as smart as one. Neither Static or Gear was worried about him, except to make sure that he didn't take them by surprise. For all his lack of brains, he had a surprising heft of muscle. Onyx, who had been Puff's sidekick from the beginning, stood nearest to her. Like Carmen, he was amazingly strong, but he had a few more brains to make his strength more dangerous. Last of the boys was Hotstreak. His whole body acts like a torch. He and Puff were the two most dangerous of the four.

Hotstreak's eyes were glittering with malicious laughter, and he tossed a ball of flames from one hand to the other. "Face it, Super-Zeroes, you can barely beat any one of us alone. What are you going to do now?"

Gear hated to admit that the flame-jerk was right. He squared his shoulders. "Bro, who do we go after first?"

Static shook his head. "The police!"

Gear wasn't sure if his friend was joking, but before eh could decide, Puff blew her little cloud of acidic gas at them…

The gas was intercepted by Flash, the member of the Justice League who can move fast as lightning.

In short order, the rest of the Justice league showed up and beat Puff and her gang soundly.

"Yo!" Gear whispered to Static. "I didn't know you were down with these big dogs!"

Static answered, watching Puff and her boys run away, "That's because it was a secret. So secret I didn't know about it."

Batman walked up to the two teens and said, "Static, we need your help."

Hi again. This is Richie. Sorry. I promised I would keep this short, didn't I? Here, let me try again:

On the space station, Static recharged the power cells. The station and Earth were saved. Just as the Justice League were about to send Static and Gear (Gear had begged to come, and promised he would stand in a corner if only they would let him come) all the adult superheroes were called away to save a galaxy, leaving the teens alone on the space station.

Being typical teenage boys, Static and Gear wasted no time: they raided the fridge, finding and devouring all the pizza.

That was when they discovered that Brainiac had invaded the station, and was determined to kill them so he/it could digitize all the information on Earth, then destroy it.

After a dozen or so attempts to kill the two superheroes, Brainiac was finally destroyed (or so everybody thought) when two things happened. First, Static absorbed all the energy he'd put into the space station. Second, Gear uploaded a song into Vrainiac's hard drive a hundred thousand times to make Brainiac crash. Gear used his invention, Backpack, to do this. Backpack was a compact computer that was settled on Gear's back and was connected directly to his brain. (More of that Bang Baby intelligence.)

So… Adventure ended. Brainiac gone. The young superheroes were commended for their showing, and for their quick thinking. The Justice League leaves, and Static and Gear return to their hideout, an abandoned gas station. (There were no deserted tree houses to be found.)

This is Richie again. Virg calls our hideout the "Abandoned Gas Station of Solitude", after Superman's Forest of Solitude. Just in case you find it as amusing as I do. I could tell you how we settled upon that name if you'd like… Wait. I'm stalling again, aren't I? Shit, this is going to be harder than I thought. I hope Batman's right about this. If writing all this down doesn't help with the nightmares, I'm going to get desperate. Not that I'd do anything stupid like run away (I learned that doesn't solve anything when I was fourteen) or kill myself (I couldn't do that to V) but I might just crawl into bed and try to shut everything out.

All right, Richie, deep breath. In… out…. That's a little better. Now, stop your hands from shaking, and just keep going. The sooner you tell it, the sooner you'll know if Batman's idea works or not.

In the gas station, Richie (he was out of his costume now) was typing a set of instructions into his computer at lightning speed.

Across the room, Virgil was tying his sneakers, having just removed his Static costume. He asked, "Do you think my Pops will understand if I say I'm late for dinner because I was out saving the world from an insane robot bent on world domination?"

Richie grinned. "Umm… no."

Virgil shrugged. "Okay. I'll just tell him it was your fault." He stood. "I'll see you in the morning, Rich. Peace, man."

"And out." Richie listened to Virgil leave, then he hit a few more keys before pushing the shut down button. Stretching, he walked over to where he'd left Backpack on the table where he and Virgil sometimes had lunch. "Time to shake it down, buddy," he said, reaching to switch the robot over to external power so the little computer could recharge for the night.

But Backpack moved out of his reach, then sprang at him like a cat. Richie fell backwards and hit the floor. Backpack was now a solid ten pound weight on his chest. Two of the robot's "arms" reached up and touched Richie's face almost delicately.

"Hey! Backpack! Backpack, get off! What are you?"

Richie found himself staring into Backpack's single green sensor-eye. His stomach had turned to ice, and he felt as if his legs were made of Jell-O. Staring back at him from that single eye was the horrible, distinctly non-human face of Brainiac.

"You thought you destroyed me? Incorrect, human. You merely delayed the inevitable."

Backpack's "arm" had stopped brushing Richie's face. "You have developed a connection between yourself and this machine that will be quite useful to me," Brainiac said.

_No! If he follows the connection between Backpack and my brain, I'm lost! I won't be able to fight him off!_ Richie struggled harder. "No! No! Stop! Stop! Stop!"

"It is useless to resist, human. I am Brainiac, and none can escape me."

Abruptly, the connection was forged.

'You belong to me now. I will use your body to build my ship. And once my ship is built, your body will help me to take all the information I have come for. Where else in the universe is there a machine quite as efficient as a living mind? Let me give you a sample of all the data I have collected.'

Richie passed out with the shock of information that suddenly flooded his mind.

From the Diary of Virgil Hawkins/Static Shock

Dear Diary,May 31, 2003

I went on patrol last night, cruising around Dakota to see what meta-humans were causing trouble, and which ones were temporarily behaving themselves. But the city seemed quiet, and I have to admit that I kept drifting closer and closer to Richie's house. I glanced in his window just as the clock over City Hall struck ten. I wanted to catch him while he was asleep. I didn't want to bother him, and I didn't want his father to see me. Even though Mr. Foley doesn't know I'm Virgil when I'm in costume, he still doesn't like "my kind" whether they're superheroes or not.

I went to Richie's bedroom window, and peeked inside. He was asleep, his arm thrown over his eyes. Backpack, restored and reprogrammed, was near the bed, operating on what Richie calls surveillance mode. He (I call Backpack 'he' and I call Brainiac 'it'. Go figure.) Anyway, Backpack knew me, so he didn't raise any alarms.

I used my powers to open the window, and slipped inside. In his sleep, Richie stirred, turning so his hand was dangling over the edge of the bed. I crept to his side, set his glasses, which had fallen on the floor, on his night table. Then I tucked the covers around him.

"I'd better go," I whispered to Backpack. "Don't tell him I cam here, okay?"

I swear, Backpack understands more than I give him credit for. I know Richie didn't program him with artificial intelligence, but maybe he developed that on his own. Well, whether he had anything in him more than programming or not, I swear Richie's robot understood me. I grinned at him and headed for the window.

Just as I was about to leave, Richie screamed. I started to turn back towards his bed, thinking to gentle him out of the nightmare as my Moms used to do before she died, but then I heard someone coming down the hall. Backpack scuttled under Richie's bed, and I flew out the window. Unable to just leave my best friend like that, though, I hid beneath the windowsill and left the window itself open a crack so I could hear what was going on inside.

The door to Richie's room was pushed open with such force that it crashed against the wall. As if a switch had been thrown, Richie stopped screaming.

I knew it was dangerous, but I had to take a peek. Mr. Foley stood by the bed, and he was shaking Richie, even though it was obvious (at least to me) that Richie was awake, but just laying there with his eyes closed as he tried to figure out where he was and what had happened.

Richie's mother stood a little back from her husband, and her eyes darted from the man to her son.

Richie opened his eyes. "I'm sorry I woke you up," he said, squinting up at his father.

Now, Mr. Foley isn't the most sympathetic man in the world, but I still expected him to try and reassure Richie, or at least ask him what he'd dreamed about.

"You need to learn to be a man, Richie. Men don't scream. Whatever's bothering you, deal with it while you're awake, then you won't have any nightmares." He turned away and left the room.

Richie fumbled his glasses on, then looked at his mother. She smiled vaguely.

"If you need to talk to Dr. Rhodes, just let me know," she whispered.

Now, I didn't know who Dr. Rhodes was, but by the look on Richie's face, I guessed the doctor was probably a psychologist. After the Big Bang, and especially after Brainiac, I know Richie didn't want anyone messing with his mind, even if they had good intentions.

"I'll be okay, Mom. I was just dreaming about school, that's all."

Her vague smile came back. "Richie, you're a smart boy. School isn't a challenge for you." She patted his shoulder and left.

When the door was closed, Richie groaned and put his head in his hands, pushing his glasses up onto his forehead. I couldn't just leave him like that. We've been through too much together; I can always tell when he really needs help. I opened the window.

Richie's head snapped up, his glasses falling back into place. When he saw me, though, he grinned. "BP, why didn't you tell me there was a meta-human here?"

Backpack slipped out from under the bed and beeped an answer. Richie's grin broadened. "Okay, okay. I believe you."

I slipped inside and sat on the bed beside Richie. Backpack hopped up on Richie's other side, for all the world like he was worried, too.

Richie blushed and looked down. "You heard me, didn't you?"

I nodded. "We all have bad dreams, Rich. There's no shame in it."

"I know." He was fidgeting with his earring.

I hate seeing him like that; unsure of himself and afraid of the world. "Rich…" I touched his shoulder and he looked up. "Was it Brainiac?"

Richie bit his lip, then sighed. "I think you have a new superpower you aren't telling me about. Since when have you been able to read my mind?"

"Ever since you've been able to read mine."

Richie smiled slightly. "Fair enough." He reached up and touched my hand. "V, I'm all right. It was just a bad one, that's all. I'll get better. I promise."

There was a creak out in the hallway, and the two of us froze. When the creak wasn't repeated, Richie whispered, "You'd better go. Dad'll go postal."

I couldn't help myself; I reached over and hugged him. For a moment, Richie stiffened, then he leaned against me and returned the embrace fiercely, laying his head on my shoulder.

"I'm always here for you, Richie. You and me, we've been through too much to let anything stop us. Don't let this hurt you. What hurts you hurts us."

Richie gave me an extra-hard squeeze, then pulled away. "I know, Virg. I'll come to you if I need help. I promise." He glanced towards the hall. "You'd better go. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Okay. Peace, man."

Richie winked. "And out."

I left him then, only to come home and lay awake for hours. So, at about one this morning (which was about half an hour ago) I finally got up, found my journal and sat down at my desk to write this little bit down. My eyes are itching with exhaustion, so I think I'll go back to bed. Hopefully I'll be able to get to sleep this time.

Chapter Two

It's just me, one more time. A week passed from the time Brainiac invaded my mind and body until the supercomputer decided that its ship was ready. So it sent me out to capture the Justice League and Static. I captured Flash, and put a mind-control disk on his back. I mean Brainiac did it, but he used my hands, and Backpack was the one who actually held Flash still.

Brainiac went to an abandoned steel mill and set a trap for the rest of the Justice League.

Let me tell you one more thing before I launch into Brainiac's newest plan. Brainiac knew a few things about me, but not everything. The supercomputer knew I was Gear, and that my name was Richard Osgood Foley, better known as Richie or Rich, but there were a few things I managed to keep hidden from the parasite. That I was able to hide anything at all is more due to Brainiac being distracted by his plans for his new ship, and his thoughts about the demise of the Justice League than any strength I might have possessed. But I have always believed that V has a secret power inside him, something stronger than anyone can ever measure or anticipate. Because of that belief, I wanted to keep his two lives a secret if at all possible.

There was no way I was going to let Brainiac get his hands on Virgil/Static if I could help it.

So, here's what happened after Brainiac used my voice to lure the Justice League and Static to the steel mill. Before they arrived, Brainiac discovered a new bit of information that he had never considered before.

Richie tried to flinch when Brainiac trailed his fingers over his thighs. _Shit. My body doesn't understand yet that it can't move._ Brainiac, super-villain-computer extraordinaire, controlled him. More. Brainiac WAS him, having taken full possession of his body. Which meant that Richie was being touched by fingers that were both his and yet definitely not his.

'What do you want?' the blond teenager shouted in his mind.

'To absorb all information and destroy the planet when I am finished. Have you not been paying attention, Gear? Or would you prefer that I call you Richie?'

Richie seethed, but tried to keep his mental tone light. 'Yeah, what's a planet good for when you've learned everything about it?' He wished he could roll his eyes. Anything to distract himself from the fingers that were now stroking his crotch.

'Exactly.'

'You don't know anything about sarcasm, do you?'

'Sarcasm is a lowly form of a despicable pastime known as humor. I do not respond to it; that does not mean I do not know everything about it.' He (it, perhaps) rubbed his fingers over Richie's zipper. 'But there are other discoveries to be made. This world is unique in its treatment of sexual practices.' Methodically, Brainiac undid Richie's jeans. 'I have learned that struggling makes this worse for the victim. Therefore, the first time, you will not struggle. The second time, you will. In this way, I will gain all relevant information.'

'All you're going to manage to do is jerk off. You can't rape me if you are me.'

'You have underestimated my power. I can clone myself. I will be both victim and rapist simultaneously.'

'What about love?' Richie wondered how long he could keep the machine talking instead of acting. _Static, if you're out there, help me!_

'I can simulate love quite easily. I will simply be gentle with you.'

'But I don't love you. You won't get the proper responses from my body unless I love you.' Richie wanted to shiver. _Talk, talk, talk, distract, distract, distract… long as I can, anyway._

'That is also simple to accomplish. I know someone you do love.' An image of Static flashed across their mind. 'I will bring him here and the two of you will commence the lovemaking.' Brainiac drew Richie's pants down. 'But first I will experience rape from two angles.'

Richie endured the first rape- the "pleasant" one- by pretending it was Virgil inside him. The two had never been together, _I've never confessed my love, even_, but Richie had dreamed about being with his friend.

The second rape was like being stabbed. Richie passed out after three of Brainiac's thrusts.

In the steel mill, from a dense shadow near one wall, Richie/Brainiac watched Flash, acting on Brainiac's orders, slap mind-control disks on the chests of the Justice League and Static.

"We await your command, Brainiac," they intoned.

_No! Not Static!_ Richie wanted to cry. Without Static, he didn't think there was any chance any of them would see another day. But then he had to laugh as he watched Static's disk fall off, completely shorted-out.

Brainiac picked up on that realization. "Your natural electrical field shorted out my thought-control disk," the computer said to Static in a voice that was half Richie's and half Brainiac's. "No matter. There are other ways to take care of you."

"Richie?" Static asked. "Is that you, man?"

Calmly, perhaps sensing that the mere sight of him would surprise Static and put him off-balance, Brainiac stepped out of the shadow. Brainiac hadn't finished his ship, and he hadn't really even started on his new body, but he had disfigured Richie's face, overlaying skin with metal so that half of Richie's face was hidden.

"I am not Richie. I am Brainiac."

"Let him go!" Static formed balls of lightning in his hands, ready to strike.

"Go ahead. Attack me. The only one who will feel any pain is your friend."

_That's right,_ Richie thought. _Brainiac may be using me, but most of his "body", his hardware, is still in Backpack. If Static could shut Backpack off somehow, force him to reboot, he would lose temporary control of all his systems. I might be able to break free. _Hopelessness threatened to steal over him._ But Static could never get close enough to shut down Backpack. And he doesn't know the code. Wait. Backpack has a remote control. I've never actually used the thing, but it exists. I've got to tell Static._

The balls of lightning dissipated. "Fight it, Richie! You can do it, man! I broke free from his control, and so can you!"

_Here's my chance._ Richie shoved forward in that directionless way minds have of moving. It hurt- his whole body was lit with pain- but he managed to meet Static's eyes for a brief moment. He spoke, each word more agonizing than the last. "V… control. Control. _Control!_"

"That's it, Richie! Fight it! I'll help you."

But Brainiac had overpowered him, blinding him with an image of Static burning, dying. Silently, Richie screamed, and all of his strength evaporated.

But even as he was driven back, Richie realized an amazing fact: Brainiac could read his emotions, and even most of his thoughts. _But not all. He doesn't know Static Shock is Virgil Hawkins, even if he knows I'm Gear. If he'd been able to read all of my thoughts, I would have never had a chance to tell V._ Now _maybe everything will be all right. If only V understood…_ Inside himself, Richie grinned like a cat.

"You should be more concerned with helping yourself," Brainiac intoned. "Justice League, destroy him."

Richie felt his heart sink as, one by one, Batman, Flash, Hawkgirl, Wonder Woman, Superman, Green Lantern and J'onn, the Martian Manhunter, turned on Static. The younger superhero was forced to retreat.

But Richie refused to lose hope. _He heard me. He'll figure out what I meant, even if Brainiac wouldn't let me say everything I wanted to. _

When they were alone, Brainiac turned his attention to building himself a body around Richie's own, an impervious silver shell. 'This will only take an hour to complete. Before that time, you will pay for your insolence. I cannot be defeated. I am Brainiac. Resistance is futile.'

_You remind me of the Borg from Star Trek,_ Richie thought. 'How can you make this any worse? Your slaves are turning Static into sliced ham, or does that sophisticated super-computer software of yours have a glitch somewhere?'

'You do not believe that. You hope he will return.'

'Shit. He can read more of my mind now!'

'You cannot hide yourself from me. I am the gatherer of all knowledge.'

'You don't understand everything, and you never can. Knowledge is one thing, but using it is another. Static has more ingenuity in one eyelash than you have in that whole, advanced bucket of bolts you call a brain.' Instinctively, Richie knew he had only two choices for dealing with Brainiac: whole-hearted fight or complete surrender. There was no middle ground.

'An eyelash cannot be ingenious. You are a fool.'

'Right back atcha.'

For a moment, Brainiac didn't answer. Richie had time to consider the possibility that he had shut up the sadistic robot for a while.

'Behold,' said Brainiac.

When he had been overpowered, Richie had traded a view of the outside world, first for a false image of Static being hurt, then for darkness. Now he was able to see again. Batman and Superman marched Static into the room. Virgil looked exhausted and weak.

"Bring him to me. His lover wants to see him."

Richie longed to blush. And he was furious. 'That was my secret!'

Brainiac said, 'If he is going to die, would you not rather that he know?'

'You won't kill him!'

'Not yet. I told you I would find a way to learn about human lovemaking.'

Brainiac, using Richie's hand, beckoned his slaves forward.

Static raised his head and offered Richie a weak smile. He was dragged forward until he stood toe-to-toe with Richie.

Brainiac wrapped Richie's arms around the injured hero. "Kiss me," Brainiac whispered in Richie's voice.

Static tried to pull back. "Never. I won't hurt him."

"But Richie wants it." He closed the distance.

Virgil's lips were impossibly soft, Richie decided. 'If I was just in control of my own body… I could enjoy this.'

At first, Static struggled. Then, seeming to realize that he had no choice, he moved closer, kissing back. "I love you, Rich."

Richie began to cry; Brainiac let him. He was far too shocked and grateful to feel embarrassed. "Do you mean that, V?"

"We might die in a minute, Richie; I wouldn't lie to you at a time like this."

Richie felt vaguely uncomfortable when he heard that, but he let it go when Static kissed him again.

"Make love to me," Brainiac made Richie say.

Static blinked.

"Brainiac says he wants to see it," Brainiac continued. "He said he'll torture me if you won't make love to me."

Static hesitated, then drew Richie closer. His hand slipped down his friend's back, coming to rest on his backside. "I can't imagine a better way to spend my last moments of life."

That vague feeling- it was definitely unease now- assaulted Richie again, and this time he pushed it away more slowly. Then Static moved against him and Richie felt how hard his friend was.

"We'll make this perfect," Static whispered. "You'll keep our memory alive forever inside Brainiac." He thrust against Richie's thigh. "Immortality, Rich; it won't be a dream for you."

'But it was never my dream… never our dream,' Richie thought. "V?"

Static kissed his neck, nipping him lightly.

Richie pushed at Static's shoulders. "V, stop. When did you learn how to do this?" He fought for clarity in his own mind so he could understand the sudden change in his friend. "I know you have no social life, unless you call meeting the giant ameba head-to-head a date." He could sense Brainiac watching this, taking it all in, and switched tactics. "We don't have to perform for him. I'm not afraid of a little pain."

"We're not performing." Static fumbled with the fly of Richie's jeans. "I'm claiming you. I'm making us both happy. Just once before I die, I want to show you how much I love you."

Abruptly, Richie understood his unease. It was complicated, which might have been part of the reason he discounted it at first. _No. I ignored it because I wanted this to be V loving me. But it's not. V would never give up. Never. And he would never just fall into my arms when we're in danger, if he ever would. He'd never be this forward._ Static was now undoing his zipper… and Richie realized that he was frozen again, back under Brainiac's control. _'Shit. Part of me must have known about this. I didn't use Static's full name, did I? Too bad the rest of me didn't get the message sooner.'_

Brainiac sensed his suspicion and realization, if not his actual thoughts. 'You are too intelligent for your own good," Brainiac said.

'I hate you! I'll find a way to break free of you! And when I do, I'll make sure you can never trick anyone again!'

"I love you, Richie. I want to love you. Take down your pants for me."

'You're not Static!' But no matter how much Richie shouted in his mind, Brainiac wouldn't let him speak.

The image before him ran like melted gold. The false Static vanished.

'How did you know?' Brainiac had turned back to building his new body. His tone was calm, but Richie sensed his frustration.

"You told them to kill Static," he answered, all the while thinking, _He doesn't know why? Why can't he read me completely yet? What's distracting him? Does V have Backpack's remote control? Is he using it?_

A poker of white-hot agony shot through Richie's head, blossoming in his temples.

'Tell me the truth,' Brainiac ordered.

'I did.' Richie wondered if he would die before the real Static came back to find him.

That bolt of pain hit him again and Brainiac allowed him to give voice to his suffering. Richie screamed.

The pain wasn't breaking the insufferable human, and it was wasting Brainiac's much-needed energy. 'When I am at full power, this will not be a concern.' But until then, the human was a decided distraction. When he wasn't in pain, he was trying to pry into Brainiac's innermost thoughts and plans. 'I need most of my resources to build my perfect body. But even if I don't have the power to read him right now, or to break him with pain, I have enough to send him a most unpleasant nightmare. That will distract him until I am ready to take full control again. The nightmare might even break him. I would be afforded an opportunity to observe human madness.'

From the Diary of Virgil Hawkins/Static Shock

Dear Diary,May 31, 2003

Well, at least it's really morning now. The sun has risen, and it looks like it's going to be a beautiful day. But it's still only six-thirty, which means I can't call Richie, either by the normal way, or by using the Shock Vox. He needs all the sleep he can get. Just because I can't sleep doesn't mean I should deprive him of his rest.

I've been thinking about the little fight the Justice League and I had after I shorted out all of the thought-control disks they were wearing. If I'd listened too them, if I'd just gone home and waited for it all to be over, Richie would be dead. There's no doubt in my mind. As Green Lantern said… Well, I'll just write it all down.

Flash ran up to where the Justice League and I were gathered. Nearby, J'onn was landing the Justice League's jet. "It's started. Brainiac's ship is built, and he's digitizing everything. Even the garbage."

_There goes the main source of raw materials for Richie's inventions,_ I thought. No one ever claimed that being a superhero is lucrative.

"Do you understand now?" Green Lantern asked me. "We have to stop him."

"What about Richie?" Now, the Green Lantern is my number-one hero, but I wasn't about to let him forget who Brainiac was holding prisoner.

"We'll save him if we can," Batman promised.

I glared up at Batman. Usually I feel intimidated by him, but I was too worried about Richie to feel anything else. "That's not good enough. Richie needs-"

"Look at what Brainiac is doing to the city," Green Lantern said. "This is bigger than the fate of one teenager."

I balled my hands into fists. "Not to me. Nothing's more important than saving Richie."

Batman sighed. "We're going after Brainiac."

He turned away, and I started to follow, but the Green Lantern put up a shield between the Justice League and me.

"Hey!" I knew Green Lantern wouldn't back off, and so I appealed to the Dark Knight himself. "Batman-"

But Batman wasn't in the mood to be helpful. "He's right. You're too close to this."

_Like you were too close the times you saved Robin from danger. Right._ I watched the jet lift off. I remember being sorely tempted to send them a little electrical going-away present. That wouldn't help Richie. I contented myself with a shout that none of them could hear (except J'onn, probably, since he can read minds.) "I guess Brainiac's not the only control freak I've fought today!"

I turned my back on the ship and closed my eyes. Richie stared at me out of the darkness, his skin too pale and his eyes too bright with Brainiac's attempt to regain control of him. Again, he spoke that single word: "Control." And this time, I understood. _Everyone has a control. Brainiac controls Richie through his mind, but he had to get into Richie's mind through a piece of hardware. If he didn't have to do that, he could control anyone, at any time, without technology. And how did he get to Richie? Through Backpack, of course, the only device in the world, at least as far as I know, that connects directly to the human mind. And Richie, dear, practical-to-a-fault Richie, built a remote control for Backpack just in case he- Richie- couldn't actually physically or mentally link to his robot, for whatever reason. He could never think of a time when that would happen, but trust Richie to prepare for anything and everything. Did I say practical? Maybe I should have said compulsive and obsessive._

I jumped onto my magnetized saucer, which is my mode of transportation. Richie calls the saucer and me a UFS: Unidentified Flying Static. I headed to the Abandoned Gas Station of Solitude. (Go ahead and laugh- I wish we had a better name for the place.)

Of course, it wasn't all that simple. It took me a long time to find the remote because, practical-obsessive as Richie is, that doesn't make him a neat-freak. I found Backpack's remote control behind a cabinet, of all places. Then, with remote in hand, I flew off to confront Brainiac.


	2. First Nightmare: Klux and Virgil's thoug...

**Author's Note: Thank you to those who reviewed. I didn't think I would get response so fast. Richie's story continues…**

Chapter Three: First Nightmare: Klux

Hi, Richie again. This is going to be a bit confusing. See, this is the first nightmare Brainiac sent me when he was trying to break me. It doesn't start out like a nightmare, doesn't even feel like a nightmare until the very end. And there are other perspectives in here besides mine. That's simple to explain: I 'heard' all these things when Brainiac sent me the nightmare, but I didn't realize I was hearing them until after his first experiment was over. Just keep telling yourself that none of this stuff really happened to me, convincing as it all sounds.

Part One: On the Space Station

"Here. Drink this." Wonder Woman held out the cup.

In the space station's infirmary, Virgil glanced up at her reluctantly. He squeezed Richie's hand. "No, thanks. I don't drink coffee."

"It's a healing tea my mother invented. It will help you stay calm."

"No drugs for me, thanks. I need to be clear-headed when he wakes up." Virgil turned back to Richie.

Wonder Woman set the cup aside and sat beside Virgil. "He will surely sleep for several hours. He has been through a terrible ordeal. You should get some rest. That way, you will be fresh when he wakes up."

"He might have nightmares. I need to be here."

"Is he prone to nightmares?"

"How should I know? I've never watched him sleep before. But he might, after this. I need to be here. I'm the only one he knows here."

"And how much help will you be to him if you can barely keep your eyes open? Virgil-"

"I don't need drugs. I'll just sleep here." He patted the chair he sat in. "I can sleep anywhere. It's a talent of mine."

"I… I can vouch for that."

"Richie!" Virgil leapt from his seat.

Wonder Woman caught him around the waist. "Don't crush him now."

Virgil glanced up at her, thought about what he'd been about to do- probably smother Richie- and nodded. She let him go. Virgil settled for grinning like a fool and squeezing the hell out of his friend's hand. Richie was still too pale, and without his glasses he looked vulnerable, but Virgil ignored that. "Man, I thought we were going to have to call you back from the dead or something."

"No such luck." Richie grinned. "But I would have loved to see you doing a Ghost Dance or something."

"The Ghost Dance isn't to raise the dead, Rich; it was made by the Indians to scare the white men. You need to quit falling asleep in history."

"I'm not the one who told the teacher Ganges Khan's real name was Bob."

Wonder Woman left the young men alone, calling over her shoulder as she left, "Make sure he gets some sleep, Virgil. And see that he eats, too."

"Should we tell him?" Hawkgirl asked.

Flash shook his head. "That's not our job. Or even our place."

"Besides, it's possible Richie was unconscious when it happened. He may remember nothing," Superman added.

"How likely is that?" Hawkgirl asked.

"Not very," admitted the Man of Steel.

"If Richie was our ward, or if he and Static were part of the Justice League, this would be much easier. We would have the obligation to help him through it," Batman said then, folding his arms. "But he isn't one of us." He sighed. "Still, who can he go to when and if he decides to talk about it? He's only fifteen, and therefore doesn't have our defenses against the cruelty of the world."

"Enough of this," said Green Lantern. "What are we going to do about Static and Richie? Do we tell them both, or do we just talk to Richie? And if we don't, we'd better have an ironclad reason for keeping silent. Because Batman's right, at least in this: Richie can't discuss this sort of thing with a conventional psychologist. And it's already easy to see that he doesn't have parents or other people that he talks to. Besides Virgil."

"Can't we just assume that Richie already knows?" put in Flash. "There's not much chance he was unconscious, right? If he already knows, it's his choice whether he wants to tell Static or not. And if he doesn't know, for whatever reason, it's probably better for him."

"Unless he's still sore. He'll wonder about that." Wonder Woman looked around at the rest of the Justice League. "Maybe this is my woman's intuition, but I don't think we can just trust to fate in this case. Richie is a hurting boy. Don't we have an obligation to help if we can?"

"We aren't his shrinks," Hawkgirl said, "but maybe you're right. We can't just let this slide. Brainiac will have won, if only in a little way. That's unacceptable."

The rest of the Justice League sat in silence for a minute. Then Flash asked, "So, who's going to talk to him?"

Richie rubbed at his arm. It didn't ache, but he didn't want to draw attention to what really hurt. Not in front of Virgil, anyway. 'I'll ask… well, somebody up here to find out if Brainiac left any burns inside me.' He shivered, then glanced up. Virgil was still talking a mile a mile, his back turned as he gazed out at the stars.

"I mean, if I lived up here, you'd never hear me complaining about the view. Sure, it's always the same, but it's gorgeous. Makes me feel like I could just reach out and hold the stars in the palm of my hand." He laughed. "Anything's possible for Static Shock, right?"

Richie snorted dutifully, all the while rubbing his arm and trying to focus on Virgil. His friend looked so strong standing there, silhouetted against the stars. 'I'm not with Brainiac anymore,' Richie reminded himself. 'I don't have to be so jumpy. Virg might even understand if I… No. I can't tell him. I can't explain why I'm messed up. Superheroes get hurt all the time, right? It was just my turn, that's all.' He blushed slightly. 'Besides, how could I really explain the rape unless I told about Brainiac impersonating Static?' Again, he shivered. 'No. I won't tell.'

"Batman even said that we could join the Justice League when we're older," Virgil went on. "What do you think? We wouldn't just be looking after Bang Babies, but after the whole world." He paused, glancing at Richie, who seemed to be staring at a spot just over his left shoulder. "We could even look in girl's showers if we wanted to. Or maybe spy on the Bang Babies swimming in their big bathtubs or… Richie!"

"Huh? What?"

"You weren't listening." Virgil crossed the room and sat beside Richie on the bench. "Are you okay, man?" He touched Richie's arm where he'd been rubbing it. "Do you still hurt?"

"No. No, I'm okay. Sorry. Must have gotten distracted looking at the stars or something." He offered Virgil an unconvincing smile and pushed his glasses up. "I'm cool, V. Don't worry about me."

"I do worry, Rich. You look like somebody's pointing out your future grave plot and saying 'It's all ready for you when you are'."

"Thanks for the cheery assessment. I'm fine. Really." He tried the smile again, and this time it looked a little more genuine.

The door to the observation deck opened and Batman strode in. He glanced at the teens, then went to stand by the window Virgil had just vacated.

Richie shifted uncomfortably. "I think I need to go lay down again, Virg. I'm feeling a little tired."

"Stay here," Batman rumbled without turning his back.

"If he needs sleep, he needs sleep," Virgil argued instantly, standing and watching Richie struggle to his feet. He reached out to lay a hand on Richie's shoulder, but Richie turned away as if he hadn't seen him. "Rich? I'll help you if-"

Batman turned and ordered, "Sit down, Mr. Foley. This concerns you, if no one else."

Richie's face had gone the color of curdled milk. "I have to…"

"Sit. Down." Batman advanced on the teens, his face set.

Virgil stepped between the Dark Knight and his friend. "Leave off. He doesn't feel well. It's been a hard couple of weeks and-"

"And that's why I'm here." Batman pushed Virgil aside and grasped Richie's arm above the elbow. Richie flinched.

"You're hurting him!" Virgil tried to shoulder his way between the two. "His arm hurts already. Don't make it worse."

_He_ did _notice I've been rubbing my arm._

Batman sat down, dragging Richie with him. Virgil glared at him for a moment, then seeing that he was being ignored, sat on Richie's other side and placed his hand on his friend's shoulder. Richie's muscles under his hand were like coiled springs.

"Do you want to discuss this alone, or can Static be here?"

Richie winced. "I don't want to talk. You can't change it, so what's the point?"

"The point is healing."

"I'll just… somebody will… it doesn't hurt that much." Richie's hand went back to his arm.

"I'm not talking about physical pain. That's something we can treat easily enough. But what Brainiac did to you leaves more than physical scars. You owe it to yourself to take this opportunity to work through it."

Richie fidgeted. "I'm fine," he whispered.

"I'll talk to him if he needs talking," Virgil put in. "You don't need to worry about him. We've always taken care of each other."

"But never when something this devastating happened." Batman folded his arms.

"Just leave him alone, okay?" Virgil stood.

"Wait, V…" Richie swallowed. "I do want to tell him one thing." He pushed at his glasses. "Can I tell you about it later, V? I want…" He sighed. "Please don't think I'm pushing you away. I want to tell one person at a time, that's all. And he… well, he…"

Virgil tried to be understanding. "He isn't going to go away until you talk." He squeezed Richie's shoulder. "It's okay; we'll talk later?"

"Yeah." Richie's smile was real this time. "Thanks."

When they were alone, Richie asked, "What do you want me to tell you?"

"I am not your interrogator, Richie. Or do you wish me to call you Gear?"

Richie, thinking of Brainiac taunting him about his name, made a face. "I'm not in costume. Call me Richie."

Batman nodded. "Names are important to some."

Richie shrugged. "Not to me. At least not right now." He rubbed at his arm again. "If you want to hear about what Brainiac did, I'm not going to give you a frame-by-frame showing. He raped me. Twice physically, and several times in some sort of strange dream state that I don't understand. I'm not ready to talk about it, but since you're being so insistant, looks like I have no choice." He glared at Batman. "What more do you want to hear?"

"Did you always know it was Brainiac?"

Richie jerked as if he'd been slapped. "Can you read minds?" he demanded. "Or is that Martian, J'onn, telling you everything through some little Bat-walkie-talkie?"

"I know a little about how Brainiac can deceive."

Richie ignored the irony in Batman's voice. "No, all right? When he was raping me- those first two times- I understood it was him. But when I was in the dream…" Richie's hand moved faster on his arm.

Batman caught his hand. "Look at me, Richie."

The teen glanced up, and watched in confusion as Batman removed his mask.

Bruce smiled, and it transformed his face. "I'm not here to hurt you. I only want to help."

"Why'd they send you to be my shrink? Did you and the other heroes draw straws or something?"

Bruce smiled sadly. "They chose me because my ward, Dick Grayson- Robin to you- was your age once. Of all those on the Justice League, I'm the one who has come closest to having a son. It's quite ironic, really, since I never even considered having children." He was holding both of Richie's hands now. "Let me help you, Richie. I want to help."

Richie frowned, then nodded, steeling himself. "All right. In the dream, it was Virg. I know it wasn't really him, and I'm not afraid of him or anything, but…"

Bruce waited patiently.

"But seeing him… I, well… I…" He was blushing furiously.

Bruce waited, and remembered when Dick had told him he had a crush on Barbara. He had sounded just this way, flustered, embarrassed, but busting with the news.

"I love him. It would have almost been… nice… to dream about Virg, except…"

This time, Bruce helped him. "Brainiac soiled it. He dirties everything he touches, and he ruined this for you."

Tears had appeared in Richie's eyes, but his voice was steady. "Yes."

"There's more. Isn't there?"

And so Richie told him about Brainiac creating a clone of Static and tricking him, at least for a while. "I didn't want him- Brainiac- of all people to see how much I wanted Virg. Or how afraid I was. I wanted Virg, but more than because I love him. I thought I was going to die, and I wanted to tell him… I wanted him to know…" Richie shook his head. "But I wouldn't have told him, I don't think. I would have been too afraid. I don't want to lose him."

"His friendship, you mean."

"Exactly!" Richie was crying outright now, his shoulders shaking as he fought to speak clearly. "When friends fight- good friends- and it's something life-changing like that, they can't stay friends. Either they become lovers or go their separate ways." He pulled his hands out of Bruce's grasp, took off his glasses and wiped at his eyes. "I won't risk that," he whispered. "I won't." And without another word, he replaced his glasses, stood, and strode from the room.

Knowing that he couldn't stop him, knowing that he wouldn't talk any more for a while, Bruce put his mask back on and went to gaze out the window at the stars, his thoughts turning from the brave young man he'd just spoken with to Dick, who had always seemed just as complicated as Richie. _I was never complicated. I wanted only revenge, to the exclusion of all else. I was both blessed and damned as a teenager._

Part Two: Graffiti

"Where have you been?" demanded Virgil's father, Robert.

Virgil sighed. "I'm sorry, Pops. It's just that I got stuck and…" He shook his head. "Please don't ask. I promise I didn't do anything illegal."

"Richie's dad has been calling every half hour for the last two days. Where's Richie?"

"On his way home."

"He was with you?" Robert Hawkins shook his head. "Why do I even bother to ask? Of course he was with you." He grasped Virgil's arm. "Listen to me, please, Virgil. Next time, call me, all right? I'm getting too old to panic like that."

Virgil wrapped an arm around his father. "I promise. And I bet Richie's promising the same thing to his father right now."

"Let's hope you both mean it this time." Robert shook his head and tousled Virgil's hair. "Well, at least you disappeared on a weekend. Better get upstairs and start your homework."

Virgil groaned, but didn't dare argue. _Now I know why it's easier for adults to be superheroes. They don't have schoolwork._

"So, are you really okay?"

"Yes, Mom. Scout's honor." Richie forced his hand not to resume its old dance up and down his arm.

Virgil grinned. "Can't help it, Richie. You scared me."

"I scared the famous Static? Well, things are looking up. Maybe I should go take that history test while my luck's holding."

"Do you still need to talk?"

Richie hesitated. "I should tell you, V… but I'm afraid."

"What's more frightening than admitting you're frightened?" Virgil asked seriously. "If you don't want to tell me, Richie, it's okay. I won't be mad."

"But it'll hurt our… us… if I don't. I'll tell you when we're in the gas station."

Virgil nodded and pushed open the front door of Dakota Union High School. He froze though, and Richie ran right into him.

"V, what's-?"

Virgil stepped inside and Richie followed. The two of them gazed, open-mouthed, at the graffiti on the lockers.

"N? Tar baby?" Virgil read.

Richie grumbled, "Looks like somebody doesn't appreciate Black History Month. Too bad all my relatives are in New York. They'd be the first suspects."

"Kids did this," Virgil said, pointing to a particular locker. "Who else would spell that nice little nickname with only one 'g'?"

"Uh… someone that isn't going to do so well on the SATs?"

Virgil sighed. "Very funny, Bill Cosby. Come on. The janitors will clean this up. We're late."

"V, I hate to tell you this, but we were late when we stepped through the door."

"Story of my life, Rich."

One of the fluorescent lights just inside the school doors flickered. Then, slowly, a white form began to slither across the ceiling and down the wall. It reached the floor, solidified, and stood up. At first, it looked to be someone dressed in a hooded, angel-white robe. Then the robe flashed and faded from view, leaving a tall, brown-haired woman in her mid-sixities in a white sweater and a long, tan skirt. She looked in the direction the other two students had gone and grimaced. "If there's anything I hate more than a room full of coffee, it's coffee walking along with cream." She glided down the corridor, heading for her office. "I'll have to do something about that." As she passed the locker Virgil had pointed out to Richie, she ran her hand over the graffiti, adding an extra 'g' to the word. _I don't think I like those two thinking a child did this. Let them know an adult wrote these words._ And she added another dash of graffiti underneath the word with the added 'g'. 'lover' "Let's just see how Mr. Cream likes that."

Richie ran his eye over the new plans for Backpack. _If I plant the virus at this juncture here, it will protect the eighteen subsystems. I wonder if I need a virus and password for each subsystem._ Then he shook his head. _Why bother? If one of them fails, the others will be easier to attack._ Sitting back in his chair, Richie admitted that he was probably just looking for something to do. School generally put him to sleep, and it didn't help that he was routinely distracted by Virgil.

_It's not his fault. I'm just… in love._ Richie blushed, and prayed that no one was paying attention to him. _Maybe if I keep fighting it, refusing to talk about it, maybe it will go away. Or I'll just learn to live with Virg as my best friend for the rest of my life._

"Mr. Foley!"

Richie straightened so fast that he nearly fell out of his chair. "Yes, Mrs.-"

She grabbed the diagram off his desk. "While I'm sure this is a fascinating little project, this is not science class, geometry, or art." She held it up so the rest of the class could see. "What exactly is this, Mr. Foley, and why do you find it so fascinating?"

"It's a schematic for a robot I'm building in Science," Richie muttered. "I'll put it away."

"No, you will not. I will keep it." She smiled down at Richie's horrified expression. "If you want it back, write me a note of apology and have your science teacher add a little something at the bottom that says you can have this back." She walked back to her desk. "Now, Mr. Foley, answer me this: What did Conrad mean by the title 'Heart of Darkness'?"

_She would just love it if I didn't know, wouldn't she?_ Richie rattled off the three-point answer and spent the rest of class plotting how to recover the diagram.

When the bell rang, Mrs. Snow told him to wait a moment. "Do you ride the bus?"

"No, ma'am." _Here we go. I haven't been in detention in almost a year. What's Dad going to think of this? And how much is it going to cut into patrolling time with V?_

"Mr. Foley, are you aware that I control your grades in this class?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Are you aware that you need this class to graduate next year?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Are you willing to let bygones be bygones?"

Richie blinked. "Ma'am?"

"Answer the question, Mr. Foley."

"Yes, ma'am, I am."

She held out the schematic, but kept it just out of his reach. "I want you to do an extra assignment for me, Mr. Foley. You do that assignment, we'll forget all about this little misunderstanding." She smiled. "I know you're a good boy, Mr. Foley. I know you'll do what you promise.

"Are you aware that there is a race-problem at this school?"

Richie grimaced, thinking of the graffiti. "Yes, ma'am."

"I want you to learn why someone would write graffiti. But this is more than a research project. You will become one of the white students at this school who do not even notice a black student unless that student steps into their path. Today is February eighth. The project will run until March first. Do you understand the assignment?"

Richie's first thought was _No! You can't ask me to do that! It's wrong!_ Then he thought, _But there was a similar experiment like this where all the students with blue or green eyes were discriminated against so the students could learn what it felt like. It wasn't widely accepted, but something like this has happened before. Just not to one specific student._ He pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose as he thought. _I could explain it to Virg, and it wouldn't effect us when we aren't in school. And he could explain it to Daisy and the others. They'd just have to keep their mouths shut so Mrs. Snow didn't hear that I explained things. Something tells me that isn't part of the project._ He swallowed. "Yes, ma'am, I understand."

"Do you agree as well?"

Richie swallowed again, thoughts of Backpack's diagram in his mind. "Yes, ma'am, I do."

"Excellent. I expect a detailed report of your discoveries and your opinions on graffiti in regards to racial tensions on March first. Have a nice day, Mr. Foley."

Richie started for the door.

"Oh, and Mr. Foley…"

"Ma'am?"

"If I see you talking to any black students starting today, the project's over."

"Yes, ma'am." Richie got out of there as quickly as he could. He walked with his head down and his hands stuffed in his pockets. His felt foolish and lost, but didn't dare try to find Virgil to explain things. _That will have to wait until patrol tonight._ He snorted. _Guess this means I won't be seeing much of Virgil during the days. Maybe this will actually solve my problem._

"Richie!"

_It's Daisy. And I have to ignore her. Forget about telling Virg everything before I have to hurt him, now I'll have to hurt her. Maybe I can ask Virgil to explain everything to her._ Squaring his shoulders and hating himself, Richie walked past Daisy without even looking at her. She called after him several times, but he just kept walking. As he passed the lockers near the front entrance, he noticed that the graffiti had been cleaned off.

"Richie?" Now she sounded worried.

_I'm scum. Just admit it. I'm scum._ Richie walked faster, pushed open one of the doors, and escaped into the frigid February air. He didn't stop at the top of the steps, but hurried down as quickly as he could, thinking that she might follow him. He skidded once and almost fell, but caught himself and dashed around the corner when he heard the doors opening behind him.

Only when he was a block away did he realize that he'd forgotten his coat. Shivering now, he made his way to the gas station. Thanks to his technical know-how (and thanks to Virgil being able to charge some zap-caps so they didn't have to tap into the city utilities) the converted station now had light and heat. The lock on the outside was coded to not only their voices, but to a certain password and touch-code as well. Virgil had once demanded why they needed so much security. He stopped asking after Ebon was able to figure out that Richie and Static knew each other. He had kidnapped Richie to set a trap for Static. Richie grinned as he remembered Virgil's words: "If that shadow-clinger can learn something like that from simple observation, no amount of security is too much."

Inside the station, Richie at once turned up the heat and grabbed one of the blankets he had stowed there for the rare times he and Virgil decided to crash at the station. That didn't happen often because even though they were able to bring blankets in, they had a harder time finding cots, and the station's floor was made of rough, broken concrete they kept meaning to fix.

Sighing with a mixture of relief and frustration, Richie unloaded his school bag and began to work on his homework. Despite his sour mood, Richie smiled again, remembering how he and Virgil argued over when to do homework. Virgil wanted to "put it off til later when I'll be able to concentrate". Richie had argued that if they waited until Virgil was "ready to concentrate" they might as well drop out of school. To which Virgil had replied-

_Stop it. You're just thinking like this because you want to see him. You want to explain things. And you're hoping he'll understand and support you. Tell you, "You did the right thing, Rich. That teacher's a scumbag, but you did the right thing." This isn't the time for a little cruise down Memory Lane. Focus on your work. Get it done, and by the time you're finished, Virg will be here._

The sun went down. Richie drew the blinds and turned on the lights. He trudged his way through English, Spanish and History, wrote a brief but passionate argument about why nanites were a danger to society instead of a boon for Science, and polished off his Calculus assignment. Sitting back, he glanced at his watch. 5:45. Where was Virgil?

_Probably eating dinner. Which I should have done. I should really be home, except it's too cold outside to go without a coat, and even if I had one, I need to talk to V. This weird assignment aside, I promised I would._ Richie considered calling Virgil, then decided against it. _He'll come when he's ready. And of course he wants to talk about my discussion with Batman. How much should I tell him? I'm not ready to confess anything to him, but maybe I can tell him the rest if I'm careful._

He glanced at his watch again. 5:52. Not good.

_All right, Gear, you're supposed to have super intelligence, right? Find something to amuse yourself._

He puttered around for a while, sorting things, running a full diagnostic on Backpack- just to make sure Brainiac's influence was gone for good, he told himself, but mostly because he was bored- and drawing up a new design for the Static Saucer. He finally decided Virgil wouldn't like it because it had stupid-looking stripes and fins. He balled it up and launched it towards the wastebasket.

The paper froze in midair, and Richie spun around when he heard Virgil laughing.

"You were way off, bro. It would have never made the can." Static guided the paper safely into its proper place, then strode in, shutting the door behind him. He tossed Richie his jacket.

Richie stared first at the jacket, then at Static as he removed his mask. "Where did you get this?"

"From your locker. Where else?"

"How?"

"I know your combo, Rich. We've shared combinations since fourth or fifth-"

"That's not what I meant. How did you know I didn't have it? Or were you just poking through my stuff for fun?"

Virgil was shrugging out of his costume and digging into a small footlocker for spare clothes. "I tried calling you on the Shock Vox. When you didn't answer, I got a little worried. How could you just leave it in your pocket?"

"I forgot. That little art show we saw this morning kinda shook me. Now, I won't bother to ask one of the Ws because I know who got my jacket. The question is, why did you check my locker and when did you do it?"

"About ten minutes ago. And I honed in on your signal." He grinned. "Didn't think I could figure out the tracking device, did you? You forgot that I've been to a high-tech high school-"

"For two days, and it was shut down because it was really the secret headquarters of a criminal mastermind."

"You're just full of helpful reminders today, aren't you?"

"Last question: why were you in full Static gear when you came in? Did you go patrolling without me?"

"Never." Virgil sat down at the table. "When I couldn't reach you, either at home or on the Shock Vox, I decided I'd better go looking for you in full battle gear just in case." He grinned. "So, are you going to tell me why you left your jacket at school when it's cold enough to snow?"

"I forgot." It wasn't exactly a lie.

"Uh-huh. Does this have anything to do with your little run-in with Daisy?"

Richie winced. "How did you know about that?"

"I saw her on my way out of class. She said she called to you- a lot of times, now, not just once- and you completely ignored her. She thought maybe there was something on your mind." He leaned forward. "So spill, Rich. I've got you cornered."

_No problem. I'd much rather spill about this than about Brainiac._ Richie pushed his glasses up on his nose. "I didn't want to ignore her, and I really didn't want to hurt her. It's for a project." Briefly, he described the confrontation and meeting with Mrs. Snow. "I know I shouldn't have been working on Gear stuff during class, but I couldn't keep my mind in one place very well. I was hoping working on Backpack's defenses would center me."

"Calm you down, you mean. You've been jumpy since we brought you back to the space station. Want to talk about it?"

Richie sighed. _You never press, Virg. That's one of the reasons I love you._ He blushed and ducked his head.

"Richie, I'm here for you. If you don't want to talk, or if you want to talk about only a little part, that's okay." He smiled when Richie looked back up. "As someone famous once said, 'I've got your back.' I think it was some guy named Fooly. Or Fowly or something along those lines."

Richie smiled wanly. "All right. You win." But now that he stood on the edge of the confession, Richie felt his hands shaking. He thought about looking away, but realized that he would rather meet Virgil's eyes when he talked about Brainiac. Looking at Virgil kept him from looking inside too much. "You know Brainiac controlled my body. He also controlled my mind. Not completely, or I would have never been able to tell you about Backpack's remote control. But he could send me images and fool my senses, too." His hand went to his arm, but Virgil stilled him.

"Just tell me, Richie. Once it's out, it'll be easier."

"Where'd you hear that line?" Richie asked, trying to stall.

"My Pops. And he's right about a lot of things, so just quit dodging me and start explaining."

"He raped me, V. Twice physically- he made a clone of himself, saying he wanted to experience rape from both sides- and a few times when I was in some sort of dream state." He had lost the battle with his eyes, and found himself staring at the floor.

Virgil had taken Richie's hand in both of his. He squeezed it almost painfully, but he seemed incapable of speaking. The two of them sat in miserable silence.

At last, Richie roused himself. "I'm sorry, Virgil. I shouldn't have told you." He pulled his hand away and drew his knees up to his chin. He rested his forehead on his knees, hiding his face.

Virgil stood. "You lived with this and didn't say anything? Why didn't you tell me before?" Even though his voice was tense, the hand he laid on Richie's shoulder was gentle. He took in a deep breath. "Please, Richie," he entreated, "look at me."

Helpless against that pleading voice, Richie raised his head, pushing his glasses up. He didn't bother to wipe away the tears. Instead, he met Virgil's gaze, afraid to see contempt or discomfort, but hoping for… he wasn't sure what. Certainly not love. That was a dream.

Virgil smiled encouragingly, but the grief in his eyes made Richie feel sick. Because it wasn't just grief, but fear as well. Richie blinked away more tears.

"Richie-" Virgil knelt before him, drawing at him until he put his feet back on the floor. Shaking his head, Virgil at first couldn't continue.

"You don't have to say anything," Richie told him. "I'm all right."

"How can you just ignore something like this?" Virgil caught Richie's hands. "How, Rich?"

"Well, it's either that or worry about what's already happened."

"Aren't you afraid?"

"Of what? Brainiac isn't coming back."

"Good point. But… I thought rape victims were afraid for a while after the… you know, the…"

"The rape?" Richie's lip twitched. "Well, maybe they're supposed to be. Maybe it didn't affect me like it should have. I don't know." He tried to look away again.

"Richie, I want to help if I can… but I don't know how." Virgil looked a little out of his element, and he kept shaking his head.

"You don't have to talk about this. I promised you I'd explain, so I did. But it doesn't change anything between us… right?"

Here was one thing Virgil could be confident about. "Never. We'll always be tight, Richie."

A long, uncomfortable silence followed this.

_There's no way I would ever ask him about love,_ Richie decided. _Just this little confession was almost more than our friendship could take._ He closed his eyes and suddenly felt lonely and afraid. He longed to ask Virgil to hold him.

Virgil stood. He was still holding Richie's hands, and he drew him to his feet. The two gazed at each other for a moment, then Virgil dragged Richie forward and hugged him fiercely. Only then did Richie realize that Virgil was shaking.

"I never want to lose you again. When we found you…" Virgil swallowed. "You were so pale. Like a sheet." He squeezed Richie even more tightly. "Don't ever scare me like that again, okay?"

Richie brought up one hand and touched the back of Virgil's head. "I'm sorry I scared you." He tried to laugh, but he was crying again. "I'm sorry, V. I'm sorry."

Virgil drew back slightly and smiled. "Promise me I won't lose you." He was trying to make it a joke- that smile said as much- but his eyes were intense.

"I promise."

They both stepped back, and Richie almost laughed. Virgil was blushing. _Well, at least I'm not the only one._

"Are we cool?" Richie asked.

"I've got your back and you've got mine, Gear."

Richie grinned, then turned away before the moment could become awkward again. "So, will you take my explanation to Daisy?"

"Maybe you better write her a letter. If yuh ain't suppose t' be seein any of us Negruhs, she'll wonder why yer able t' see me."

Richie glanced over his shoulder, his eyes dancing. "Your false Southern accent isn't getting any better, V. Don't quit your superhero gig."

"Quiet, or I'll string y'up, boy." Virgil was digging through a drawer for paper and a pencil. "Write the letter and I'll deliver it as Static," he said, his back turned. "Everybody knows you and I have spoken once or twice. I'll tell her I saw you dragging your feet and I wouldn't leave you alone until you told me what was wrong."

"V, Static's black, too, remember? I couldn't have talked to him, either."

"So? Static doesn't take no for an answer. I'll tell her I stuck you to a ceiling until you agreed to talk." He handed over the paper and pencil. "Here. Get started. Static and Gear still have to go out on patrol."

"Why don't we just eliminate the middle man? I'll take it to her myself. Gear has nothing against blacks for three weeks."

"You'd deny me the opportunity to see her? She thinks Static is the most amazing thing in the world, next to her favorite rock stars."

Ten minutes later, in full costume and with the letter tucked into his belt, Static flew to Daisy's bedroom window and knocked. He could see her inside, wearing headphones and scribbling in a book. _Her diary? Hmm._ He grinned and waved at her when she looked up.

Daisy pushed up the window. "Static! What are you doing here?"

"I've joined the U.S. Postal Service." He bowed and held out the folded letter.

She took it curiously and unfolded it. She read it once, then again, more slowly this time. A frown had appeared on her lovely face.

"Can she do this?" Daisy asked. "Can she make Richie do this project?"

"Either that or he doesn't get the schematic for his latest invention back."

"Can't he just draw it up again? I thought he had a photographic memory."

"He doesn't want anyone getting their hands on it." Static smiled. "He's still trying to be the first person to make perpetual motion a reality."

She shook her head. "He's a nutcase."

_Don't I know it,_ Virgil thought. "Can I tell him you accept his apology so he can stop looking like a whipped puppy?"

"Yeah." She chuckled. "Though he makes a very cute whipped puppy."

"Can I tell him that, too?"

She scowled. "You do and I'll throw a bucket of water on you. Isn't that how you get shorted out?"

"Jeez, I'm glad the super villains can't figure that out."

"I'll keep it under my hat."

"Daisy! Phone!"

She glanced over her shoulder. "Coming, Mama!" She looked back, thinking to tell Static good-bye, but he was gone. Shaking her head, still smiling, Daisy tucked Richie's note into her pocket, closed the window and headed downstairs.

'Not again.' Richie stared, open-mouthed, at the new graffiti. More antagonistic than yesterday's, it mentioned several names of students who should be "taught what it means to be black". Richie saw Virgil's name, and his hands balled into fists. 'I don't know who the hell you think you are, but-' He stopped, closing his mouth with an audible snap. Across three lockers was written this little epithet: Lynch ropes were made with black necks in mind- R. F.

'That doesn't necessarily mean Richard Foley. I'm just being paranoid.' He started down the hall. 'Besides, remember what you're supposed to do. Don't stare at the graffiti unless you're willing to pretend to agree with it.' He sighed. 'I'm not ready to take that step. That's too much, even for Backpack's diagram.'

He was so lost in thought that Richie ran directly into someone.

"Watch it, whitebread."

Richie stumbled back and raised his eyes. The football player he'd run into had to be at least a head and a half taller than he was. He opened his mouth to apologize, then stopped. 'Shit. I can't. I have to just pretend I didn't see him.' Steeling himself, Richie wlked around the fullback.

A meaty hand fell on his shoulder. "Hey, punk, don't you have something to say?"

Richie tried to shrug out of the senior's grip. He didn't look at him.

The fullback spun him around and pushed him against a locker. "Hey, shrimp, I said-"

"Is there a problem here, gentlemen?"

Richie thought he would never be glad to see Mrs. Snow.

With a grunt, the senior let go of Richie and stalked away. He shot an angry glance over his shoulder.

"Very good, Mr. Foley," she whispered. "I didn't think you had it in you."

'Neither did I.' Richie looked at her, silent and a little sullen.

"You'll get used to it," she said. "But maybe you'd better watch where you're walking from now on." She started to glide away.

Richie roused himself. "Mrs. Snow?"

"Yes?"

"Have they caught whoever's doing the graffiti?"

"Not yet. I doubt they ever will. Criminals are very careful about the clues they leave. Hurry along to class now, Mr. Foley."

'If I didn't know better, I'd think she was tempting me.' Richie shrugged, dismissing the idea. 'That's just Gear thinking. She doesn't know who I am, or that I know Static.' He smiled then. 'Maybe Static and Gear will come in tonight and investigate.'

Static put his ear to the window. Twenty or so feet below, the circle in front of the school was deserted. "It might just be rats, but I definitely hear something in there."

"Not rats. The bio-signature's wrong. I'd guess this is a Bang Baby." Gear frowned. "That means we aren't dealing with your normal, garden-variety vandals."

"If we were, there'd be hardly any reason for us to both show up, would there? I'd go back on patrol and leave you to clean up the mess."

"Sure. Give me the boring job."

Static placed his hand on the window and sent electricity into the lock. The window sprang up. "Let's go."

Once inside, Gear whispered, "There are two bio-signatures." He pointed. "One I'd guess close to the gym, and the other in the cafeteria. Which one do you want?"

"I'm not in the mood to get splattered with food. I'd rather dodge basketballs. See ya!" Static took off.

Gear rolled his eyes, then headed off in the opposite direction.

The cafeteria looked deserted, but Gear knew better than to trust that first impression. Cautiously, he entered, listening intently as he scanned for the source of the bio signature.

"Hello. I haven't seen you before."

Gear hid his surprise. Where had the lady in white come from? She was standing below him, smiling radiantly. There was a white lily in her clasped hands. Gear floated down a few feet, but kept his distance. "Who are you?"

"My name is Klux. And you are?"

"What are you doing here?"

She sighed. "You're so rude. I think spending time with that coffee-boy, Static, is having a negative effect on your manners."

_She knows Static but not me. Story of my life._ Gera a smile, then it disappeared._ Wait. How does she know Static's here? Did she see us come in?_ "I'm not here to debate choice of playmates. What are you doing here?"

"Just tell me your name, and I'll explain everything."

"Gear."

Suddenly, ropes spun around him from behind, binding him instantly. Gear struggled, but the ropes only grew tighter. "You're a Bang Baby!"

She curtsied. "My, aren't we intelligent?" She floated up to him and touched his face. Gear jerked his head away. "Naughty, naughty." She touched him again, and this time Gear couldn't pull back. "Much better. You're learning." She began to trail her fingers over his face plate. "I could simply remove your helmet, but not quite yet. I'd like to get Static here first and unmask you together."

Her hand dipped down and unclipped the Shock Vox at Gear's belt. "Interesting. Boys always have such nice little toys." Humming to herself, she studied the box. "Look above your head. Oh, I'm sorry; you can't." She waved her hand and a speech-bubble, like one that might appear in a comic strip, drifted in front of Gear's eyes. It read "Static! Static!"

Klux flipped on the Shock Vox and then popped the speech-bubble with one finger. "Static! Static!" cried Gear's voice.

"Static here. What is it, Gear?"

"Come get your Cream, Coffee. He's waiting for you."

Gear longed to roll his eyes. There was a simple truth to fighting Bang Babies: some of them could come up with intelligent come-backs, and some sounded as if all they knew about verbal sparring they had learned from poorly-written comic books.

Flux switched off the Shock Vox and dropped it. Gear heard it smash below them, a thing which shouldn't have happened because he had reinforced the communicators long ago against accidental breakage.

'She did something to it,' he thought. 'But what? And how did she turn words in the air into my voice? And will Static hear that and come to find me?' He had to admit the answer to that last question was a resounding yes.

"Hello, Static. I was wondering when you were going to show up." The thing in the white robe trailed her fingers over the basketball backboard, adding one more line of creative text. "What made you want to investigate some little graffiti?"

"This is a hate-crime." Static hovered in midair, gauging her. "You know my name. Who are you?"

"Klux." She smiled. "Now, are you going to get out of my way or am I going to have to escort you out?"

"You can try."

Static's Shock Vox crackled to life. "Static! Static!"

He was tempted to ignore it- 'but why would Richie call me? He knows I'm probably either fighting or just about to be.' Keeping an eye on Klux as she coasted around the room, spraying bleachers, floor and walls with her obscene sayings, Static pulled out his Shock Vox. "Static here. What is it, Gear?"

The box crackled, then a new voice spoke. "Come get your Cream, Coffee. He's waiting for you." It was her voice. Klux's voice. Static looked around quickly, verifying that was still gliding in front of him, making her symbols and smiling blithely.

'Too blithely. Too unthinkingly.' Static flew out of the room.

Behind him, Klux's image vanished.

Klux ran her fingers over Gear's mask, turning it brown and painting obscenely distorted features on it. "If you really want to spend so much time with a little coffee cup like Static, why don't I just make you your own little mug?" Smirking, she trailed her fingers over his chest. A black swastika was burned into his costume. The heat began to seep into his skin.

Richie tried to scream, but she had paralyzed him. 'It's Brainiac all over again.' Then he cursed himself for even thinking like that as panic threatened to overwhelm him. 'Static… V…'

"Shall I go deeper?" she whispered. "I could make you wear that permanently." She pressed her palm to the mark and at once smoke rose from it.

The pain Brainiac had dealt him had been like this, though not accompanied by the smell of roasting flesh.

A bolt of white lightning hit Klux in the middle of her back, and she slammed forward into Gear, losing her balance. Gear started to fall. Before he could hit the floor, he was buoyed up by a cushion of electricity that didn't burn.

Klux didn't wait to see what else Static had for her; she fled.

"Gear! Gear!" Static lowered his friend to the floor and dropped to his knees beside him. He inhaled the sickening-sweet smell of roasting human flesh and gagged.

Gear flinched away from the sound, one hand held up as if to ward off a blow.

Static mastered himself and touched Gear's shoulder gently. "It's just me, Rich," he whispered. "Stay with me, bro. You promised, remember? Stay with me."

Part Three: The Hospital, and the Discovery

"This is the last time, Hawkins. I don't care what you say. No white person would do this to my boy."

_She was white. Dazzling white. But you're right: she wasn't a person, not a human, like you mean. She was a meta-human._ Virgil sat, miserable and alone, in a corner of the hospital's waiting room. He, as Static, had brought Richie to the hospital after taking off his Gear costume and dressing him in the set of clothes the blond boy kept, rolled impossibly small, inside Backpack. Then Static had returned to the gas station, changed into what Richie had once called his "Virgil costume", and run home to explain things to his dad. He still couldn't believe how convincing he'd sounded when he told his dad that he and Richie had been shooting hoops behind the school when a gang had shown up and surrounded them. They had hurt Richie, but before they could do the same thing to Virgil, Static had appeared and rescued them.

_Richie, I'm scared. Why did this have to happen so soon after Brainiac? Why couldn't you have had a chance to get back to normal?_ Virgil plucked at his sleeve and stared off into space. _This isn't supposed to happen._

"Now, Arthur, I know how you feel, but the fact is-"

"Answer me this, Hawkins: how do you know they weren't black kids?"

Robert sighed. "I don't know that. But we don't know that they weren't white kids or Hispanic kids or Chinese kids."

"No Oriental did this." Sean Foley was pacing. "And if they were white, why did they attack Richie first? Why not your boy? They had to be black."

Virgil sank deeper into his chair. _I'm glad you can't hear this, Rich. This sounds like a repeat of a very old argument._ Two years ago, shortly after Virgil became Static, and before Richie became Gear, Virgil met Richie's father for the first time and learned how racist the man was. When Richie was abducted by Ebon, one of Static's enemies, Arthur and Robert teamed up- albeit reluctantly- to find him. And when Richie was safe again, his father had promised to change. He even started liking Virgil, or so it seemed.

_All that's in the past now._ Virgil sighed. _One little attack, and we're back to zero. I almost wish I could tell Mr. Foley his son was attacked while fighting off a meta-human. But that's too dangerous._

"Even if it wasn't black boys, I'm still not convinced that school is safe. Did you hear about the hate crimes going on there?"

"It seems to me that would be more a danger to Virgil than to Richie."

"Not true! Richie and your kid are always seen together. And while your son looks tough, Richie's an easy target with his glasses." More to himself than to Robert, Sean added, "When he gets out of here, I'll buy him contacts."

_Richie can't wear those, and you know it,_ Virgil thought, coming out of his depressed daze enough to glare at Richie's father's back. _Doctors said so._ He sighed loudly and stared up at the ceiling. _Don't sell him short. Richie does well enough in a fight, whether he's Gear or not. He'd never leave me in the middle of something. Never._

"Mr. Foley?"

Virgil jumped to his feet as a nurse approached their sad little group.

"How is he?" Sean clenched his fists at his sides.

"He's resting, sir. Are you his father?"

"Yes."

"Visiting hours are over, but you can come back tomorrow at 10A.M."

Sean made a rude noise, spun on his heel, and marched out of the hospital.

"How badly was he burned?" Robert asked, approaching the nurse.

"I'm sorry. I can only discuss his condition with family members."

Sighing, Robert put his hand on his son's shoulder. "Come on, Virgil. Let's go home. You can come by here after school tomorrow."

_Oh, I'll be here long before that._

"Excuse me." Static put on his most charming smile.

The woman minding the desk in the emergency room glanced up, startled. "You're… You're Static, aren't you?"

His smile broadened. "Yes, ma'am. I was hoping to check on someone I saved tonight from gang violence."

"Well, technically, visiting hours are over…"

"And I wouldn't dream of breaking that rule. But I was hoping if you could tell me how badly Richie Foley was hurt?"

Flustered (and perhaps a little taken by him; yes, her cheeks were quite flushed) the woman began to scroll down her computer screen. "Well, it looks as though he was given a room in the regular wing of the hospital instead of Intensive Care, so at least there's that. He sustained a second-degree burn, and it looks as though there's likely to be some permanent scarring."

"Can you tell me what room he's in so I can visit tomorrow?"

"Third floor, room 3017."

Static flashed his megawatt smile at her again. "Thank you. I guess I'll go back on patrol and check in on him tomorrow."

Flying outside the hospital, Static easily found an empty hospital room on the third floor. He opened the window with his power, slipped inside and relocked the window. Quietly, he slipped from the room and made his way to Richie's room. The door was open, and Static closed it once he was inside.

There were two beds in the room. Richie lay on the further one. Static crept to his side and looked down at him in the dim light. Then he turned and drew the curtain around the bed, shielding them from view. He found a chair, took up a position at Richie's side, and took his hand, just as he had on the space station. "I'm here, Richie," he whispered. "I can only stay a few hours, but I'm here now."

Virgil took off one of his gloves and touched the inside of his wrist to Richie's forehead, imitating what his mother used to do. Richie's skin was cool, and Virgil thought, _That means he doesn't have a fever._ He shook his head. _Then again, why should he? Even if he was infected with something because of the burn, it hasn't had time to multiply and spread yet._ Gently, unsure why he was doing it, Virgil traced Richie's cheekbone down to his chin. _You'll be okay, Richie. I promise._ He hesitated, then leaned forward and breathed, "I promise, Richie. I'll help you through this no matter what your father thinks or says." And, feeling as if he wasn't completely in his own body, Virgil sealed his promise by kissing Richie's slightly-parted lips.

Three hours later, after burning off some of his excess energy, Virgil snuck back home and crawled into bed. He fell asleep. In his dreams, he kissed Richie again and again. And, in his imagination, Richie opened his eyes and smiled.

Virgil ducked into the hospital after school. He saw the desk attendant who had been so enthralled by Static and smiled to himself. _I'll have to come back later as Static and say hello._

Unwilling to wait for the elevator, he jogged up the four flights of stairs and opened the door to the third floor. The first person he saw was Mr. Foley standing by the desk at the nurse's station. He was talking to a short, brown-haired nurse. Mindful of the man's anger, Virgil slipped around the corner where he couldn't be seen, flipped on a small microphone Richie had developed- Virgil carried this in his coat pocket for spying on his older sister, Sharon- and listened intently.

"Sir, I cannot deny visitors the right to be here unless there is some legal reason."

"The legal reason is that I'll sue this place if they let any black people my son. Blacks upset him."

"He didn't complain about Dr. McClain seeing him."

"He's black?"

"Yes, sir, she is."

"Then that's the first thing that needs to be changed. I want to speak to your supervisor."

Sighing, Virgil opened the stairwell door and made his way back to the first floor. _There's no way I'll get in there as Virgil. I'll just find a place to change, and come back as Static. At least he can fly and open windows from the outside._

Ten minutes later, he passed the woman at the desk in the emergency room and smiled his thanks at her. She blushed and waved.

Richie's dad wasn't anywhere in sight, so Static was able to enter Richie's room the normal way. The woman in the first bed was watching TV, but she gave a little cry when she saw Static.

He smiled at her, thinking, _I'm a popular guy._ "Hi. How are you feeling?"

She winked. "Much better, thank you. Are you here to see the boy? I heard you rescued him and his friend. Is that true?"

Static nodded.

"Well, go check on him. A boy his age should have lots of visitors."

Static peeked around the curtain that had been drawn between the beds. Richie was watching him and a tired smile turned up the corners of his mouth. The bed was tilted up so he was sitting up partially. He wore a hospital gown, and Static privately thought the voluminous thing made Richie seem much too thin and small. He could see the corner of the bandage on Richie's chest.

"Hey, Richie," he whispered, stepping closer.

"Hey," Richie whispered. His face was pain-haunted.

Static lowered himself into the chair near the head of the bed. "If it hurts, don't talk." He grinned. "I can talk enough for both of us."

Richie snorted, then groaned. His hand went to the bandage, then returned to the sheet. He smiled sheepishly.

"Idiot," Static said affectionately.

Richie beckoned him closer and whispered, his lips barely moving, "There's more you need to know. Got paper and a pen?"

Static frowned, glanced about, then shook his head.

"When you come back, bring one. And come soon." Then he said, more loudly, "Thank you for visiting me, Static. I didn't think you visited everyone you rescued."

"Actually, this is more than a social call. Your friend Virgil asked me to tell you something."

Richie groaned. "Dad still won't let him in?"

"Nope. Virgil says: 'Don't let this stop you, Richie. You're better than this.'"

Richie smiled a little. "Tell him I'm not giving up without a fight."

"I will. Just make sure you rest, or I'll zap you."

Richie was grinning now; he couldn't help it. "You better get going. That cool superhero friend of yours might show up and teach you not to pick on the wounded."

Static stood. "Well, when I see Gear I'll tell him he needs to teach you how to talk to superheroes. But before he mops the floor with you, is there anything I can do?"

"Buy me a car? I heard somewhere that superheroes are loaded."

"That's a rumor spread by swooning groupies. Sorry, man. No can do."

"Can you move me up a little in this bed then? I keep slipping down." He blushed slightly and muttered, "Can't wait until I can move well on my own again."

Static used his power to move Richie. "There. And I've stuck you there with a weak electrical field that will fade in about two hours."

"You should be a nurse." Richie sighed contentedly. "Thanks."

"Me all in white? Hmmm…"

"Forget it. You're no saint."

Static appeared at the hospital that night. Richie's roommate was asleep, but Richie was staring up at the ceiling, obviously exhausted, but just as obviously determined to stay awake.

Static held out the pad of paper and a pen. "You don't have to write it down, Rich. Your friend over there is out like a light."

"Not safe." Richie began to scribble on the pad.

Only then did Static notice how tense Richie was. "Anything you want to tell me out loud?"

Richie shook his head vehemently and continued to write.

Static sat down in the chair and waited.

Ten minuets later, his eyes tearing with strain and his hands shaking, Richie handed over the pad. On the top he had written: Read it then ask me any questions tomorrow I need to sleep

Static stood, and started to tear off the top sheet.

Richie whispered, "No, take it all. Just go. It isn't safe."

Static squeezed Richie's shoulder. "I'm here for you, man."

Richie removed his glasses and closed his eyes. "I know." He was asleep in less than a minute.

Static took the glasses from Richie's lax grip and set them on the rolling table beside the bed. "I'll be back," he whispered. He was tempted to kiss Richie again, _but I might wake him up._ Static left.

At home, Virgil turned off his bedroom light and slipped into bed. Then, careful that the light wasn't too bright, he used a small charge to fashion a tiny light he could read by. His father didn't need to know that he was staying up until all hours reading. _Besides, he might wonder what it is, and I don't want to lie to him. As far as he knows, Mr. Foley is effectively keeping me away from Richie. And how can I explain that Static helped us? He's supposedly a busy superhero._

Virgil flipped the pad open and read the following message in Richie's hurried, spiked hand:

Read it then ask me any questions tomorrow I need to sleep

About Klux:

Bang Baby

Can imitate voices- I never called you that night: she did. She made a bubble- like a speech bubble in a comic book- in the air. It said Static! Static! Then she popped it and my voice came out

Wants to unmask us. Didn't do it to me cuz she wanted to wait for you

Doesn't like you and me because we're "Coffee and Cream"- stupidest sayings of any Bang Baby yet

Virgil laughed at that.

Reminds me of somebody, but I can't figure who

Can't figure what she wants besides fighting between the races- don't Bang Babies usually want money, power or recognition?

Mrs. Snow visited me here. Told me if I hadn't been hanging out with you- V- I wouldn't have been attacked. She must have heard how Static saved us. I hope so, anyway. She can't know I'm Gear, can she? Or that you're Static? I'm probably just paranoid. I told her V told me he'd pound me if we didn't talk, so we went to the back of the school. I was hoping nobody would see us. Sorry, man. Didn't know what else to do. She said I needed to stay away from you or she would publish the schematic on the Internet, and use my name. I'm such a moron! Maybe Static should steal it?

Dad was here. Ordered me not to see you again. Told me I'd be w/out money for a month. Don't care about that. Told me I'd be sent to a boarding school in Georgia or Kentucky and taught how to behave around "those ns". I hate him. Won't run away, though- not that I can. Static would kick my ass. Besides, Gear and Static are still free to see each other.

If you go to the school at night, watch out for her. I'm sure she has other tricks. Be careful, V.

Virgil crumpled up the paper in frustration. _I hate him, too, Richie. How'd you get raised by somebody like him and turn out so good?_ He smoothed the paper out again, rereading the last bit. _Be careful, V._ Sighing, Virgil tucked the note under his mattress. He felt suddenly as he had the night he'd kissed Richie. He longed to put his costume on and just cruise around until he felt like sleeping.

_But if Pops comes in and finds my bed empty, I'll have to answer to him._ Virgil sighed and turned on his side. _He was just saying be careful, like he always does. We even got into a fight once because he said it so much. This isn't any different._

Groaning, Virgil rolled over. _I need to sleep. Unlike Static, Virgil Hawkins isn't supposed to have a very hard life._

It was an hour before dawn when Virgil finally drifted off. He dreamed of Richie, but this time, he imagined that he lifted Gear's face plate and kissed him repeatedly, while below them the whole city of Dakota cheered.

At the lunch table the next afternoon, Frieda confronted Virgil. Daisy, sitting on Virgil's other side, listened. "What do you mean we can't help him?" Frieda demanded.

"He's still under Mrs. Snow's edict. He has to work with her." Virgil watched out of the corner of his eye as Richie found a corner table and sank into a chair. His back was to them. Three days had passed since Static had visited him that second time in the hospital. Mr. Foley was still furious, and he refused to even speak to Robert.

_Now we're ducking Mrs. Snow_ and _Mr. Foley. Good thing Static and Gear have more freedom. Not that Richie's ready to be in full costume yet._

"But, Virgil, I saw him earlier," Frieda said. "He's been through a lot just today. I saw him drop his lunch tray-"

"I saw it, too," Virgil muttered.

"And do you know what the cafeteria ladies did? They made him pay for a whole new lunch! And he's being picked on. It's not safe for anybody in this place to not have friends, but it's really dangerous right now. Did you see the graffiti in the girls' bathroom?"

"Can't say that I have."

Frieda blushed. "Well, it says: Black pussies taste good, so taste all you can." She folded her arms and glared at Virgil as if he had written the words.

"Why don't you write an editorial about it?" Virgil asked.

Frieda scowled. "That's not funny, Virgil. You know our journalism budget has been cut in half. There won't be room for an article about racist comments in bathroom stalls, not with all the sports we have to report on." She turned away from him, and found herself staring at Richie's back. "Anyway, why can't I talk to him? I'm not black." She stood.

Daisy caught her arm. "No, but you spend a lot of time with us. That means Richie can't talk to you. He would still have a connection to us."

Virgil glanced at her admiringly. "You're good."

She shook her head, not flattered. "I understand how to play the game, Virgil. You go to enough high-power schools and you have to learn." She, too, glanced at Richie, then looked back at the other two. "Don't stare at him, Frieda. We have to pretend we don't see him, either. It's all part of the show."

After school, Richie wandered into the Science Lab. He didn't want to take a chance of seeing Virgil. Things had been tense in the school, as if the whole student body felt Richie's unease and sense of dislocation. Richie knew it was the graffiti, but he couldn't help but think that when Static and Gear were off-kilter, everyone else could feel that. _Selfish and self-centered, I know, but it feels right._

The lab was empty, and Richie sank into a chair, staring out the window. He was sore, and tired, but he forgot both these things when he saw the woman in white hovering n the other side of the football field, throwing glowing words at a group of black students as if they were bombs. Richie pushed the window open and heard the words: "Dogs! Slaves! Beasts! Savages!"

The small group of students was huddled against a wall, ducking and cringing away from the insane meta-human.

Richie riffled through his bag, at last finding his back-up Shock Vox while the attack of words went on outside. Richie flipped on the Vox2. It wasn't as flawless and sleek as the original, but it would serve. "V! Answer me! Emergency!"

For a moment, he was afraid that the box wouldn't work. It hadn't been used in months. Then, "Richie? Where are you?"

"At the school. Klux is here, and she's a got a group of students cornered. She's throwing words at them, like those in the speech-bubble she used before." Richie watched the students below cringing and covering their heads. The words didn't seem to be doing any damage, but they were still exploding very close to the heads of Klux's victims.

"I'm on my way. Static out."

Richie held the Vox2 against his chest as he watched Klux. _And she can do more than sling words._ Richie wondered how long it would be before Klux brought out her ropes or something much worse.

_Shit! I didn't warn V about the ropes!_ Richie activated the Vox again. "Static!"

This time, the box was silent.

"Static?"

Still nothing.

_I'm going to have to go out there,_ Richie decided. He touched the bandage through his shirt. _When I see V, I'll warn him._ He left the lab.

Virgil soared above the football field, easily targeting Klux in her white robe. "You'll never win in a camouflage contest," he muttered. Even as he moved closer, she threw more words at the huddled students. "Hey, Snow White!"

Static hit her from behind with a bolt of energy, and one of the bubbles she had been forming burst in her face. "Monkey-face!" screamed the word,

_Man, she really does say the stupidest things._ Static flew closer. "Be careful there, Snowy. You might hurt yourself."

She turned, smiling. "Hello, Static. It's such a pleasure to see you again." She curtsied. "Are you looking for a something?" She formed another bubble. This one said, "Static's real name is…" She smiled. "I just need to fill in that little gap. Where's your superhero friend? Did he decide to take my advice and stay away?"

Richie sprinted onto the football field, searching the sky for Static. _Come on, come on, where is he? I need to warn him before she-_

"Where's your superhero friend?"

Richie skidded to a halt and focused on Klux floating above, facing Static. _I'm too late._ Richie backed up into the shadow of a bleacher and watched. The last thing Klux needed to see was a solitary target out in the open. That was a great way to make trouble for Static. Safely hidden, he glanced at the small crowd of students Klux had cornered. None of them seemed to realize that she was distracted at the moment and they might be able to get away if they were quick and quiet. _Were V and I ever that stupid? I hope not._

"Why don't you just come quietly and save yourself some trouble."

"So polite! What white woman taught you your table manners, boy?"

Static bounced a ball of energy between his hands. "Come quietly or I'll have to stop being polite."

"I'm sorry to disappoint you, Static, but I want to see both you and your friend."

"Are you stopping to watch the festivities?" asked a voice at Richie's elbow. "I thought you had learned your lesson about hanging around the school after hours." A hand clamped, painfully tight, on Richie's injured arm, and he groaned.

"Mrs. Snow, I was only-"

"Watching Static in action? He's quite a sight I know, especially for a young man of your particular likes and dislikes, but you must realize that you are breaking your contract every ways but up. He is black. You are supposed to ignore him. Remember?"

In a flash of insight so sudden that it was almost blinding, Richie realized who Klux reminded him of. _And of course she can be in two places at once…_ He tried to pull away from her, but her grip was unbreakable. "I don't care about my little drawing anymore. The deal's off." Again, he struggled.

She laughed merrily. "I didn't think you would be able to hold out. The blacks have gotten into your blood. But don't be misled, Richie; they aren't your friends. They will use you, take everything you have, and leave you. All they care about is shooting, robbing and raping."

Richie flinched at that last word; he couldn't help it. An image of Brainiac flitted across his mind.

"Have you been touched, then, dear? By a black man?" She turned her eyes to Static, who still faced the duplicate.

_Something tells me I have the real one again._ Richie groaned.

"Where you raped by that brave hero up there?"

"No!" Richie jerked to his right, and her fingernails broke through his shirt, tearing at his skin. Then he realized he'd yelled, because Static was turning towards him. "No! Static! Look out!"

The duplicate hit Static from behind with a particularly large bubble. Inside floated the words: "You know Richie Foley? Interesting." But instead of exploding, the bubble engulfed Static. At once, Static claaped his hands over his ears.

"Those black boys listen to all sorts of deafening rap. I'm surprised that little noise is bothering him." Klux and Richie watched her duplicated disappear, leaving Static trapped.

Richie twisted again, trying to ignore the pain, only wanting to get to Static.

"Naughty, naughty now. We'll just set right here and wait until his little whitebread friend, his little Cream comes to find him."

'You'll be waiting for awhile, then." Richie stared up at Static. "He might not come. They don't always work together."

"Where one is, the other is, too, or so they say." She drew Richie closer. "Or do you know something I don't?" She turned his face towards hers- Richie was paralyzed again- and leaned very close. "Tell me, Richie. For your grade."

"Let Static go, and I'll tell you everything I know."

"Do you know who he is?" She sighed. "I can see you know, but you're too stubborn. I could simply kill him. I hold all the cards. Just tell me." She rose into the air, dragging Richie with her. "Perhaps Static will tell me what I need to know." The bubble shrank slightly, then popped, forming itself around Static like chains.

Dangling Richie like a fish on a hook, Klux faced Static. "Tell me where your friend is, and I will not drop this little cream to his death."

Richie fumbled at his belt for his Vox2, hoping she wouldn't see, hoping that Static would keep her talking.

Static refused to rub at his ears, even though they ached. "He's hurt. You burned him, remember? I sent him to Batman's secret lair to be healed. He should be back in the next week or so." He smiled charmingly. "Or can't you wait that long to have your Coffee and Cream? Are you just a little afraid of us?"

Richie pushed the static feedback enhancer, thinking that once he had used it to shatter a three-story tall glass statue that had come to life. He tipped Static a wink. If Static saw that wink, he gave no sign.

Laughing, she shook her head. "I have defeated you each time we met."

"We've only met once, and you ran. I would hardly call that a sweeping victory."

The Vox2 began to vibrate. So did the bubble-chains. Richie was losing his grip on the Vox, but he refused to let it go. _A little more, a little more…_

The bubble-chains snapped and Klux released Richie in surprise.

Everything seemed to go in slow motion. As Richie fell, Static wrapped Klux in a net of pure energy. She screamed and struggled, but the electrical bonds held.

Static dove after Richie, scooping him up half a dozen feet from ground. He cradled Richie against his chest. "Richie… Rich, you scared me…" Static tilted Richie's face up and kissed him.

Richie was feeling paralyzed again.

"I love you, Richie. I love you. I love you." Static was kissing his neck, his ear, his cheek, his lips, still whispering those words.

Richie felt a little feeling coming back into his limbs and he struggled against Static's almost smothering attention. "Static… V… V, we're not alone out here… Virgil, stop…"

"Why should I stop, Richie? I love you. And I want everyone to know." Static reached up and touched his mask. "Maybe it's time they knew everything… Gear." He pulled off his mask and let it drift to the ground.

Richie watched it fall. "Static! She's gone! She's-"

Static pulled him back into a kiss. "She was never really there, Rich," he murmured against the other's lips. "I just wanted to know how you would react if-"

Richie twisted in his arms, not caring now if he fell. He would chance any injury if it meant getting away from this psychotic not-quite-Static.

"Richie, don't be afraid of me. I would never hurt you… Please, it hurts to know you don't trust me…"

_V's never talked like that. And he never would._ Richie went limp in the monster's arms, praying the thing would be fooled.

"Don't faint on me, Rich!"

"Stop calling me that!"

"But it's your name, isn't it?" Not-quite-Static bent forward, holding Richie's gaze. His eyes seemed to be lit from within. "Isn't it, Gear? You've told me everything about your friends, about Daisy and Frieda. Even about your father and Virgil's father. So is that your real name?"

_I've lost,_ Richie thought. _He knows everything now. Brainiac knows everything._

Definitely-not-Static smiled. "Just as I said I would." He closed the distance one more time, more, capturing Richie's lips. One of his hands dropped to stroke Richie between his legs.

Interlude: Back with Brainiac (1)

Richie felt sick, and stupid. 'I knew everything Virgil thought and did!'

'Yes.' Brainiac sounded smug, if it was possible for the self-proclaimed passion-less computer to be so. 'But you did not understand it. That is where your ingenuity failed you, Gear. Be content to reside inside me and learn all you can from me. If you insist on troubling me, I will simply send you vision after vision until you descend into madness. That is a human trait I have yet to study sufficiently.'

'If I go off the deep end, I'll do everything in my power to take you with me! We're connected, or did you forget? If I try really hard, I can pull you down. And if you send me another vision, I won't be fooled this time.' _He made a lot of mistakes with that first vision. For one thing, suddenly_ 'we were in the middle of February even though it's May right now. For another…'

Brainiac asked, 'Do you realize that I can hear you, Gear?'

Richie flinched. _He's getting_ 'more and more control over me.'

'Indeed. It was only a matter of time. No one escapes from Brainiac. Would you like another vision? You will find this one even more persuasive as the last.'

**A/N: Thank you for the reviews! It took me a long time to figure out how to put the second part up, since computers and I don't always mix. **

**Mystery Squeezit:** GL bothers me too, sometimes, but I actually like the fact that he's stern and a little arrogant because I was getting sick of Batman being the only superhero who was "dark" and "unapproachable".

**Sailor Vegeta:** There's always hope for Richie!

**Dimitri Aidan: **I'll agree with you: stories need to be felt. I've believed that, subconsciously, for a long time, but my opinion was given support (at least to me) by a book Stephen King wrote called "On Writing" where he says that he doesn't make up a story; he's just an observer in another world and waits to see what will happen.

**Leev:** Well, I've been kicked off FF before because I was too… something… xo I'm trying to be careful this time. Thank you for reviewing. I love your stories on here. I was just starting to despair of finding any good Static Shock fan fiction when I came across your stuff.


	3. Second NIghtmare: Part 1 and Virgil's Th...

A/N: I promised I was going to include the table of contents, as it grows, at the beginning of each chapter. So much for that with the last chapter. Well, here it is, even if it's delayed. This part begins with Chapter Four: Second Nightmare: Marriage is a Blessing.

Telling Tales

Book I

From the Diary of Virgil Hawkins (1)

With Brainiac: Forward: The Story Behind the Story

Chapter One

From the Diary of Virgil Hawkins (2)

Chapter Two

From the Diary of Virgil Hawkins (3)

Chapter Three: First Nightmare: Klux

Part One: On the Space Station

Part Two: Graffiti

Part Three: The Hospital, and the Discovery

Interlude: Back with Brainiac (1)

Chapter Four: Second Nightmare: Marriage is a Blessing

Part One: Home

From the Diary of Virgil Hawkins (4)

Chapter Four: Second Nightmare: Marriage is a Blessing

If Brainiac understood anything about me, it was that Virgil was my weakness. I would jump off a cliff for V, and Brainiac knew that. He also knew that I was weak without Virg, that, without V, I would die surely as a fish out of water will suffocate. And so it was my dependence on V that Brainiac exploited.

And yet, if the psychotic supercomputer could misunderstand anything, it was how human relationships really worked. If he hadn't botched 'Virgil's' reactions, I probably would have gone on believing in that first nightmare until I was rescued. Oh, by the way, this is Richie again. I just can't stay completely out of the telling of this. I hope this writing starts to help soon. The nightmare I had last night was the worst yet. V was out "patrolling" last night, but since we hardly ever patrol in my neighborhood, I think what he was really doing was checking up on me. V worries so much about me. Have I mentioned yet that I love him? I can't speak for all of Virgil's reactions that Brainiac planted in my head, but my reactions to the imaginary V during the nightmare were my own.

I love Virg. Dad would flay every bit of flash from my bones, show his _berserker_ heritage, but I can't deny what I feel. If Brainiac helped me in anything, he helped me to see how much I need V. I've had inklings of the depth of my need, but Brainiac brought everything into stark relief. Not that I would ever thank the mechanical bastard. I'd be too busy blasting him to pieces; there wouldn't be time for thank-yous.

Part One: Home

The pain wasn't bad, Richie decided as he struggled to open his eyes. A few bruises weren't much, compared to what could have happened. It was the weakness- more emotional than physical- that frightened him, and that sense that he wasn't alone. For a moment, Richie considered just keeping still and not advertising to the world that he was conscious. _But how long can I keep that up? And if Brainiac's still here, surely he knows what I'm planning._

_There is no Brainiac. There hasn't been a Brainiac in over ten years. You were just dreaming, Foley. It's not surprising you would dream about him: every time you get hurt really badly, or frightened beyond all reason, you dream of him. Nothing will ever be quite as paralyzing as Brainiac, and so, of course, you think of him when you feel helpless. Perfectly natural. Dr. Sharon Hawkins could tell you as much._

He heard a deep snore coming from his right, and dared to open his eyes. Everything was fuzzy, and Richie reached out blindly. But his hand must have known where it was going, because his fingers touched a table almost immediately, and his glasses an instant later. _I've done this many times._ He fumbled his glasses on.

Virgil was collapsed, fast asleep, in a chair nearby. Someone had spread a blanket over him, but otherwise he looked as if he'd just been dumped there.

_He collapsed there last night, and no matter what I did, I couldn't get him to leave the chair. "You were hurt, Rich. I don't want to frighten you by being too close." That's what V said. And nothing _I_ said could convince him that I actually needed him beside me, no matter how much I've struggled against him in the past._

_Wait! I've never struggled against him, because we've never slept in the same bed! Well, not since we were nine or so, anyway._

_Then where are you, Richie? This isn't your room, or Virgil's. Now, take a better look at him. He isn't the Virgil you knew when you were sixteen._

Richie turned his eyes to Virgil. One of his friend's arms hung over the side of the chair and the other was crammed between his body and the chair arm. His chin was down on his broad, bare chest, and he was snoring loud enough to beat the band.

_He's different,_ Richie admitted. _Taller. And he definitely has more muscle._ He brushed aside the covers, suddenly aware that he, too, was bare-chested. _And I've gained more muscle than I ever thought possible!_ He stared at himself for a moment, then turned his eyes back to Virgil.

_That's V, muscles and all,_ Richie thought, somewhat shocked. Then he stopped himself. _Or maybe it's not. I need to play this carefully. But how can I know what's real and what's not? I could still be sixteen and with Brainiac._

He shivered. _Or I could have just had a nightmare._ He groaned and closed his eyes. _Maybe I should just pretend to be asleep a little longer._

But he found that he was too restless. Weakness or no, Richie longed to be up and moving. Had they destroyed Brainiac? Could Virgil have possibly freed the Justice League and returned to save his friend from Brainiac?

_Yes, he did. Ten years ago. He and the Justice League rescued you. J'onn announced that there was nothing of Brainiac within your mind. Don't you remember?_

_Yes. No. How do I answer any of these questions once and for all? How do I know that I'm not just frittering away the hours, months and years between now and eternity in dreams?_

He was reminded of an _Are You Afraid of the Dark_ episode he and Virgil had watched together. The two of them, sitting side-by-side on the floor of Virgil's living room, staring at the TV as though hypnotized. _We couldn't have been more than eight or nine. Why V's dad let us watch it in the first place is beyond me. Especially because it came on at night. _

Richie smiled. _But there we were, pretending not to be scared while we watched a boy running around and around inside a pinball game. I always hated that last scene of the story where the boy looks up and sees a new pinball positioned to play the next game. The whole room- the whole imaginary world of captures, escapes, love and loss- was reflected in its silvery surface. That's what this feels like. The boy would never get out of that imaginary world._ Richie reached up and wiped away frightened tears. He felt small and alone again, without even Virgil, who had been small and alone, too, but who had at least been a friend, beside him to try and laugh it off. _How can I know what is fact and what is fiction? Easy: I can't. If I died in one of Brainiac's little worlds, I might come back in another life to do it all over again. I wonder if the boy in that show ever felt that he just wanted to end it all?_

Richie ground his teeth. _I won't admit defeat like that. I won't! It's not in me, wasn't even in me when I was eight. Virg and I talked about how we would begin to spy around the game for hidden ways out. If the ball came from somewhere, we could get to where it started and jump back into the real world. I think we even went to the library the next day and looked at schematics of pinball machines to find out how they worked._ Richie laughed. _We wouldn't give up then, and I won't give up now._

Abruptly, Richie realized the way he could save his sanity, and he laughed again. _It's so simple. I'll just treat everything like it's real, and if it isn't, instead of being dragged back to Brainiac's darkness, I'll look for an escape hatch. I'll have to be careful and make sure he doesn't understand what I'm doing, but we've already established that he can't know everything._

"Richie?"

Richie refused to jump. Slowly, he opened his eyes and looked at Virgil, who was struggling to get out of the chair. _He's gorgeous._ Richie blushed even as his body announced that it more than agreed with that assessment. "Hey, V." _Whose voice was that? Was that me? My voice finally changed!_

_It changed when I was eighteen, later than everybody else's, and a full two years after V's, but at least it changed._

Virgil extracted himself from the chair at last, but staggered on his way over to the bed and almost fell. "Did Superman ever have his legs fall asleep?" He gimp-walked over to Richie and asked, "What's so funny, anyway? I heard you laughing. That's what woke me up."

_His voice is so deep!_ "You mean your own snoring didn't do it?"

Virgil waved that away. "Get some new material, Rich." He sat on the edge of the bed and took Richie's hands in his. "How do you feel?" His eyes darkened with concern.

Richie's mouth answered for him. "Much better. I didn't know the Cobras could pack such a punch."

"They wouldn't be the top assassin agency in the world if they couldn't." Virgil shook his head, and Richie's attention was caught by the other man's shorter, somewhat less wild hairstyle. It was still spiky, but looked a little tamer.

Virgil leaned forward, bringing his hand up to touch Richie's face. He smiled and closed the distance, brushing his lips lightly against Richie's own.

_Brainiac! Brainiac's trying-!_

_That stupid robot isn't trying anything. Brainiac's been gone for ten years. Virgil is almost my husband._ Almost against his will, Richie leaned into the kiss. He sighed contentedly when Virgil folded him in a tight embrace. As one, they deepened the kiss, and Richie brought his hand up to touch the back of Virgil's head, feeling the new hairstyle-

_-that V has had for almost two years now._

Richie closed his eyes and gave in to the present, committing himself fully to the moment. He pulled back slightly. "I love you, V."

Virgil drew him close again. "I never get tired of hearing you say that. Will you ever get tired of hearing me say that I love you, too?"

"Never." Richie smiled against Virgil's lips. "Now, let me up so I can start breakfast."

Virgil stood and stretched, wincing.

"That'll teach you to sleep in a chair. There's always the couch in the living room, you know."

"It's currently covered with presents from those who can't make it to the ceremony or reception." Virgil grinned. "You know, the out-of-towners like Superman and Batman."

Richie considered taking up the issue of Virgil sleeping in the bed with him when he'd had a bad scare, but decided _that_ discussion could wait for another day. _After all, we've got all the time in the world._ He rose gracefully and padded from the bedroom into the kitchen, calling over his shoulder, "Coffee, Coke or tea?"

Virgil laughed. "What do you think?"

Richie shook his head. "All right, Mr. Coke addict. I don't even know why we bought a coffee pot. Neither of us uses it."

"Because every time Sharon comes over she wants a cup. You make it better than Adam, and that's saying something." Virgil had followed him, and he began to rummage through the fridge. "Omelets or scrambled?"

Richie put the kettle on, then ducked into a cupboard to find a can of Coke. "Hmm?"

"Do you want an omelet or just a scrambled egg?"

Richie turned towards Virgil, and was suddenly consumed by a need to touch him. He tried to fight it. Turning away and putting the Coke down, he started looking for a glass for the soda. "Scrambled sounds fine." He shivered as the need grew stronger. He needed to do more than touch Virgil. He needed to be held.

_This need has come before. Why don't you just give in to it?_

_Because every time I do, it frightens him to know how much I need him. I don't want to hurt him._

_He hurts you by not sleeping with you after you're attacked; why can't you hurt him?_

_Because he's V! I won't hurt V on purpose._

_But your need is out of love._

_No, it's out of fear. I want to feel safe, and only V can make me feel that way. But it's not fair to put so much pressure on him. He always has to be the strong one. I want him to know I can take care of myself._

_But you can't. Isn't that the point? You can't take care of yourself, Richie; you need him. You need him in a way that is almost unhealthy._

Richie shook his head violently. _Leave me alone! I love V, I won't hurt V, and that's the end of it!_

"Richie?" Warm arms encircled his waist. Richie set down the glass and sighed as Virgil tightened his embrace. "What is it, Rich?"

Richie gave up the idea of hiding his feelings from his fiancée. He cast these over his shoulder without so much as a look back. Virgil had always had that effect on him.

Virgil turned Richie in his arms so the two of them were facing each other. "Talk to me, Rich. I'm here for you."

_I'll start with the bed dispute. After all, he's holding me now, which is what I wanted. _"I want you in bed with me, V. Not just when things have been going well, but when they haven't. Especially then. I know I've flinched before when you touched me, but I don't know it's you when I flinch. In my mind, it's usually…" He swallowed.

"Brainiac." Virgil touched the side of Richie's face.

Richie put his hand over Virgil's on his cheek. "Yes. Him." He kissed the side of Virgil's mouth. "I love you, and I never want to hurt you. But I like having you beside me when I wake up." _Well, I didn't mean to confess how much I need him, but it's better out than in, especially with the ceremony tomorrow._

There was a part of Richie that didn't understand what ceremony he meant. The part of Richie that still thought of itself as a sixteen year old didn't understand, but that part of Richie had taken a back seat to the one that was apparently almost twenty-seven. Be it dream or nightmare or reality, Richie was in it almost one hundred percent. Part of him didn't know what ceremony was going to happen on the morrow, but that part didn't care, either. Sixteen-year old Richie trusted twenty-six year old Richie and didn't ask.

"But, Richie, you don't trust me when you're dreaming. If I try to wake you, all I manage to do is make you fight me." Virgil smiled a little. "I don't know if I can keep explaining those black eyes. When you're really afraid, Rich, you fight like a tiger."

Richie groaned. _That's right; I've hurt him. No wonder he doesn't want to sleep next to me._ He considered just giving in, letting it go, _but I want to fix this. I don't want anything terrible between us. _He swallowed and stepped back breaking contact with Virgil. "I need you beside me, but what I do in my sleep isn't fair to you. We're both superheroes, and we're both intelligent adults. There has to be a way to make both of us happy and safe."

Virgil grinned. "I remember you're a genius when you talk like that, Doctor Richard Osgood Foley."

For some reason that the younger Richie couldn't understand, the blond man blushed at Virgil's words.

Virgil was thinking; his grin had faded a little, and his eyes were turned inward. "Well, according to Sharon's psychology books, people tend to have nightmares when something is out of sync, either mentally, emotionally or physically. That's why some people have more nightmares when they're sick than when they're well. So, if you dream after you've been hurt, that's what's causing the nightmares."

Richie resisted the urge to say, "Well, duh!" Virg was pursuing a train of thought; Richie waited on the sidelines, trying to see where his friend was going. _I may be the 'genius' on this team, but V has a lot more common sense and worldly know-how than I do._ He smiled to himself. _And I'm quite willing to have him lead me in this._

Virgil was pacing now. "Now, since there is something directly causing your nightmares, all we have to do is counteract it to keep it from disturbing your sleep."

_Since when has he become such an expert in psychology? _the sixteen-year old Richie piped up.

_Ever since your/my father started abusing you/me, V has been trying to make sure that you're/I'm all right, and that you/I don't harbor any feelings that would hurt you/me. _

Sixteen-year old Richie got his head around that confusing explanation, then said out loud, "Maybe I would be all right if we talked about everything that happened. Maybe an informal debriefing would work. That's part of what they do for soldiers who have been in a war zone and need help."

Virgil's megawatt grin returned, and he caught Richie in his arms, spinning around with him until they were both breathless. Then he kissed Richie soundly "I love you, Richie. You really are a genius."

Richie blushed again. "I love you, too." He happened to glance at the clock over the stove, and his eyes widened behind his glasses. "V! It's almost nine! You're going to be late!"

Virgil glanced at the clock, but he didn't seem half as put-out as Richie. "I'll be all right. I'll just explain to Pops that I needed to get a few things ready for tomorrow." He smiled. "Which is true, more or less."

Richie extracted himself from his fiancée's grasp, and shook a finger at Virgil, who was laughing. "Get going."

But Virgil wouldn't condescend to go quite yet. "And what will you be doing all day?"

Richie considered that, and discovered that, surprise, surprise, all he really wanted to do was spend time at Virgil's side. "Well, I don't teach on Fridays, so…"

"So you'll come to the rec center with me and help hang posters and stuff? You know this is Kids Against Drugs month, right?"

Richie laughed. "All right, V, you twisted my arm. I'm coming. But for either of us to be able to go anywhere, we have to get dressed."

Virgil plucked at the waist band of his sweat pants. "You mean I can't just show up like this?"

"And have your pops hit the ceiling? You can show up like that if you want, V, but if you do, I think I'll just stay home."

Virgil pouted. "Guess that leaves me no choice. I'll have to dress."

Richie hugged him from behind.

Virgil spun around and captured Richie's lips. "You're the best thing that ever happened to me, you know that?"

Richie's cheeks were so pink he thought he looked like he'd tried on some make-up. "Come on; now we're _really_ late."

From The Diary of Virgil Hawkins/Static Shock

Dear Diary,June 1, 2003

I'm going to kill him. I swear it. If he touches Richie one more time, Static's going to 'accidentally' electrocute the bastard. How dare he raise a hand to Richie, let alone hit him? Yes, Richie was missing for a day or two. So what? He came home, didn't he? He's all right, isn't he?

Okay, it's out of my system, at least enough for me to write down what I'm talking about. Richie's father, the oh-so-upright Mr. Foley, hit Richie for disappearing for a few days, then hit him again because the jerk saw a picture of Rich and me in Richie's desk. Richie keeps some of the really funny pictures of our adventures. Once, the two of us were in a pie-eating contest with Pops- the two of us against my pops is what I mean- and we had pie all over our faces, hands, clothes, and hair. My pops still won. Sharon took the picture, and all three of us look like walking cream pies. Richie's glasses were so covered he had to spend almost an hour cleaning them.

Writing about the good times helps me calm down even more, but I need to explain what happened. Mr. Foley went through Richie's things when his son disappeared, hoping to find a clue as to where Richie went. Richie ran away once- long story- and so now every time Richie's two seconds late for his curfew, his father goes ballistic. I didn't know he was hitting Richie, though. That's why I'm so ticked off, I guess; I can't know if Mr. Foley has hit Richie before, and, if he did, why did Richie hide it from me?

I'm not mad at Richie. I'm not. I'm just hurt. Okay, fine, I'm a little angry that he thought he couldn't trust me, but I love him- he's my best friend- and I want to know when something's bothering him. Maybe the reason he had that nightmare yesterday night has more to do with his father than Brainiac. Not that I could see any bruises when I went to talk to him after his nightmare, but I doubt this is the first time his father hit him.

And I'm even more pissed off that if we hadn't had school today, Richie might have been able to hide the bruises from me again. As it was, the black eye couldn't be missed, and neither could the large bruise on Richie's neck. I could even see the marks his father's knuckles had left! Want to hear the fight Richie and I had? Of course you do- you're my diary.

Richie didn't walk to school with me this morning. That was when I should have heard the first alarm bell. But I just figured he was running late and didn't need to be pressured by me. I would see him at school, I decided.

He was at his locker when I walked towards mine, and so I stopped to talk to him. His back was to me, and he seemed to be digging for something. The hood of his sweatshirt was up, which is a definite no-no at good old Dakota Union High, but apparently a teacher hadn't caught him yet. As I moved closer, I heard him muttering, "Where is it? Where is it?" as he continued to rummage through his things.

"Richie? You okay, man?"

Richie turned around so fast that he hit his head on the door of his locket.

"Richie, what-" I stopped. That was when I saw his black eye. "Richie, what did you-?"

Richie lifted his bag onto his shoulder. "Hey, V, can't stop to chat. Going to be late for study hall."

I caught his arm before he could take more than a step. "Richie, what happened to your eye? That isn't from our little adventure."

"Maybe it's a delayed reaction?" Richie grinned weakly and kept trying look away from me.

"Mr. Foley, take your hood off." Mr. Kingsley was glaring at Richie from across the hall.

Richie hesitated, his hand drifting very slowly up to the hood.

"Right now, Mr. Foley. Or do you want detention?"

Richie brushed his hood back revealing the bruise high on his neck, almost hidden by his hair. He glanced at me, knew that I saw the bruise, and sighed. "Don't say anything, V. I don't want the teachers to notice."

_You don't want to explain where it came from, in other words._ I moved so that I was partially shielding Richie from passing students and whispered, "I won't say anything to them. What happened?"

I doubt if everybody in the world is as open as Richie and I are with each other, but I'll bet there are other people who, like us, depend on each other in almost every way, and so are more likely to confide in each other. Richie looked me right in the eye and said, "I don't want to have to lie to you, Virg. Please don't ask."

I could see how close he was to just bolting, running away from me, probably skipping school to try and figure things out. I wanted him where I could keep an eye on him, so I said, "It's okay, Richie. You don't have to tell me."

Richie relaxed slightly. "Thanks, V." His voice was so quiet I could barely hear him, and I watched him fiddle with the hem of his sweatshirt. "We should get to study hall."

It was hard not to watch Richie all this morning. He was moving more slowly than usual, and didn't have any of the right answers the teachers had come to expect from him. And he kept shifting around, fiddling with his glasses and messing with his bag. In Science, Mrs. Pettibone asked, "Do you have a problem, Mr. Foley?"

Richie had been biting his lip, pulling on his earring- did I tell you about that thing? I'll tell you later- and scuffing his feet on the floor. He looked uncomfortable. When she spoke, Richie froze as if he'd been targeted with a searchlight. Then he answered, "No, ma'am. Sorry." He held himself ramrod straight for the rest of the class, but I could see his fingers twitching under his desk.

At least after Science it was time for lunch. Richie and I walked to the cafeteria side-by-side, and Richie was walking a lot closer to me than usual. It was as if he was trying to draw strength from me. I didn't say anything until we'd gotten our food and sat down at a table. I was hoping nobody we knew would interrupt us.

I was watching Richie poke at what passed for mashed potatoes on his plate. "Richie, can I ask you something?"

He looked up, his face guarded and wary. "Sure, V."

"Are you okay?"

Richie relaxed a little. Maybe he'd expected me to ask about the bruises again. I'm too smart for that. I won't do anything that might drive him away before I figure out what's wrong with him.

He leaned forward a little. "I dreamed about Brainiac again last night. I didn't sleep well." He smiled slightly. "Maybe you and I could talk later? After patrol?"

"Or before, if you want." I was glad to hear that he was willing to talk. It still didn't explain the bruises, but it was a start. Let me start with his mental injuries, then maybe he would explain the physical ones.

"After," said Richie decisively. "I need to burn off some energy before I can settle down."

"Yeah, I saw you in class."

Richie smiled sheepishly. "I guess I've been having an off-day."

"I'm sure even Gear and Static have off days," I told him, winking, "so why can't we?"

Richie's smile stretched into a grin. "How do you know they have off-days? Maybe they're always dead-on."

I was about to answer when I heard footsteps coming in our direction. I glanced up Mr. Kingsley (he's our lunchroom monitor) was walking towards us. "Mr. Foley, here's a pass. Go to the principal's office."

The color of Richie's face instantly changed from cream to ash. He stood up hurriedly. "Mr. Kingsley, I didn't do it! Whatever it is, I swear I didn't-"

"You aren't in trouble, Mr. Foley. Collect your things." He gave Richie the pass and walked away.

Richie looked at the pass, then at me. "Why would he want to see me?" he muttered.

"Maybe you're going to be accelerated into a college-prep class or something." I was trying to make light of the situation, but I felt Richie's tension. I leaned close to him and whispered, "Where's your Shock Vox?"

"In my bag. Why?"

"Turn it on. Then it will be like I'm there. And if they show any signs of really yelling at you or something, Static can show up, declare a state of emergency at the school with a few well-placed electrical charges, and you'll be free."

"I'd still have to talk to them eventually." But Richie was grinning again, and he reached into his bag, activating his Vox. Then he straightened and shouldered his bag. "I left it on maximum sensitivity. Turn yours to the lowest volume, then you can hear it with your powers instead of your ears."

I nodded. "Will do. Good luck and Godspeed. You're treading where few students have trod before."

Richie winked, then left the room. Two seconds after he left, the bell rang, signaling the changing of classes. Richie calls it "the changing of the guard- and we need to be guarded, don't we? Just to make sure we don't cause any damage or anything."

It's a good thing we had a substitute in English, the period right after lunch. That meant I could just sit in the back of the room, close my eyes, and listen to Richie entering the office. I'll put what I heard from the Shock Vox between slashes like this.It's always amazed me how well the Voxes pick up conversation.

Richie's voice came first. "Excuse me. I'm supposed to talk to Mr. Lenning. Is he in his office?"

The secretary answered, "No, he's in the conference room. Go right in. They're expecting you."

"Who are they?" I muttered, my lips scarcely moving. "And what do they want with Richie?"

"Thank you," Richie answered. I listened to the muffled sounds of other conversations as he passed other students and a few teachers. He knocked on the conference door.

"Come in, Mr. Foley. Close the door," said our principal. Then, after a pause, "You can sit, Mr. Foley." Another pause. "Do you know why I've called you in?"

"No, sir." Richie's a smart kid; he knows when to keep his mouth shut- most of the time- and when the shortest answer possible is the right answer.

"Do you know why Ms. Pettibone is here?"

"No, sir."

Ms. Pettibone spoke then, and I've never heard her voice sound so gentle. "Richard, we want to help you. You can trust us."

"Um, I do."

"Good. Now, Richard, I know this might be difficult for you, but remember that whatever you tell us won't get you in trouble in any way."

I thought, _This does _not_ sound good._

"Mr. Foley," said Mr. Lenning, "Ms. Pettibone has noticed several bruises on you over the last few weeks. And the worst has emerged today. Mr. Kingsley told me you tend to wear your hood up often, and Mr. Vanlentine informs me that you are reluctant to change for gym."

My stomach twisted, and in my lap, I clenched my fist. Gym is one of only two classes Rich and I don't have together.

"Please tell us where these bruises are coming from, Richard," Ms. Pettibone resumed. "We only want to help you."

"I'm clumsy. Mr. Vanlentine can tell you I fall a lot when we'/re playing in gym."

This is even true, but lately Richie's clumsiness has been completely feigned. Since he became Gear, and started training with me on ways to stay upright and mobile, his clumsiness has all but disappeared. He still trips over things as Richie so no one will suspect him.

"Mr. Foley, we aren't your enemy. Please understand that we won't pressure you. But if someone is hurting you, we have ways of protecting you."

"You can trust us, Richard. We're on your side."

"I... I'm all right. It's not bad. They don't even hurt."

"Where did you get the bruises, Richie?" That was Mr. Lenning, and the concern in his voice shocked me so much I came out of my horrified daze. Richie had bruises today but, judging from what the principal and teacher had said, he'd had ones before. And I'd never noticed them.

"My father." Richie's answer was almost inaudible. "He didn't mean to hurt me. I ran away for two days, and he was angry when I got some sense knocked into me and came home."

"Does Mr. Hawkins know about this?" Mr. Lenning pursued. "Does he know you ran away?"

"V's dad? No, why would-"

"I was actually referring to Virgil."

"He… um, yeah, he knew about it. He's the one who convinced me to go back home." And then, his voice suddenly too high, "Don't drag Virg into this. He didn't know about my father. He doesn't know anything."

"He knows you are hurt, Richard. He was staying very close to you today," Ms. Pettibone said quietly. "Maybe if we asked him, we would discover that he knows more than you think. Perhaps he can help you, too."

"I don't want Virgil anywhere near this!" Richie shouted. Then, after a short pause, he whispered, "Please, don't drag him in. This is going to get messy, isn't it? IF it is, I don't want Virgil involved. He doesn't know about Dad, and I want to keep it that way."

"He doesn't have to be, Richie," Mr. Lenning said. "It was only a suggestion."

There was a long silence. "So, what are you going to do with me?" Richie asked.

"You have two choices," Mr. Lenning said. "The first one is to stay at home and wait while I get in touch with Child Protection Services. They'll come in a few days to see if you want to leave. Or, if you think the situation is too dangerous, I'll find you a place to stay until Child Protection Services can take custody of you."

"I…I can't leave. I can't. I have too much… Too much to lose. Please let me stay. And don't warn my parents that anyone's coming."

"I would never do such a thing, Richie. If you're sure you'll be safe… All right. You can go to class if you want, or, if you'd like to talk more, you could take to either Ms. Pettibone or Ms. Menga."

That's our guidance counselor- she gives me the creeps.

"I'll be okay. I'll go back to class now."

"Here's a pass. And thank you for being willing to trust us."

Richie didn't answer.

_Why wouldn't he want me to know? Why wouldn't he want me to help him? Doesn't Richie trust me? Maybe he does, but he doesn't want me to know how badly he's been hurt. Richie's like that; he hides his injuries. Even when we were little, he did that. _

A chill ran through me then. _Was his father abusing him even then?_

And the questions returned, stronger than before, demanding that I answer them.

The classroom door opened, and Richie slipped inside, leaving his pass on Mrs. Johnson's desk. The substitute watched him walk to his seat, and I could see the concern in her eyes. How could a sub know about Richie? Granted, she's a sub that comes around here often, but she isn't supposed to be privy to that kind of thing. Well, unless she'd seen one or more of Richie's bruises for herself. Did everyone suspect something except me? Did the teachers all think Richie had been abused? Had they all gotten together, wanting to confront him?

Richie walked to his desk beside mine. He sat, and when his eyes met mine, they were dull. He looked as if he'd just been told the whole world was going to explode, and there was nothing he could do about it.

I tore a piece of paper out of my notebook and wrote furiously, _What the hell is wrong with you? Why didn't you tell me? I could have helped! Static could have helped! Why didn't you tell me? My pops is a social worker! Sharon's a counselor! You had help right at your fingertips! Why didn't you take it? Why didn't you tell me? If nothing else, I could have protected you a little, or helped you deal with the stress or the pain or whatever you needed. Can't you trust me?_ Then I folded the paper, checked to make sure no one was looking, and slipped it into Richie's lap. He took it like a sleepwalker, and didn't open it right away.

As soon as the paper was out of my hands, though, I started thinking about what I'd written. _Shit. I didn't mean to say all that. I don't want to make him angry with me. I don't want him to lose it and run. Why did I accuse him?_ I looked at Richie, thinking to take the paper back before he could open it, but now it was too late. Helpless, I watched him read. His lips moved silently, and his hands shook.

Richie flipped the poisonous note over and began to write. I stared at him, amazed that he wanted to answer me on paper instead of deck me, but grateful for that. Now I could apologize.

Richie shoved the paper at me, not bothering to see if he was being watched. And I read his answer without bothering to conceal what I was doing, either. The dull expression in Richie's eyes had turned to rage.

_I didn't want you to know. I forgot the Vox was on, or you wouldn't have heard any of it. This isn't your business. If you aren't going to help me through this, leave me alone. I don't need you or your accusations. And since I'll be moving soon- there's no way the people at Child Protection Services will let me stay anywhere near my parents, and probably not even in Dakota- you may as well forget about Gear, too. And if you're worried about my nightmares about Brainiac, you can stop. They'll probably go away faster when I'm away from everything that reminds me of him. Like Dakota. Like you._

The scraping of the chair next to me startled me, and I looked up in time to see Richie bolting for the door, his bag over his shoulder. It was too late for decorum, and at that moment I didn't care how I sounded. "Richie, I'm sorry!" I stood up so fast my chair fell over with a crash. At the door, Richie stopped. "I didn't mean it! Richie!"

"Excuse me, young man, where do you think you're going?" the substitute demanded. All traces of sympathy were gone from her face. Then she glared at me. "Sit down."

Richie ignored her. "Forget it, Virgil. It hurts less this way." He left.

The whole class stared at the closed door. Then they stared at me. I slumped into my chair, too shocked, hurt and confused to follow him. Virgil. He never calls me Virgil unless he's very angry with me.

"Shit," I whispered.

"Watch your mouth, young man, or you can go to the principal's office."

I considered getting sent to the principal's just so I could try and track down Richie, but then I realized that anything I said right now would probably be taken the wrong way.

So, here I sit, my anger still bubbling up inside me, but now it has been joined by a stronger emotion, one I am not sure I should share with Richie. I can't bear the thought of him leaving. I need him. Static needs Gear. I can't lose him. I won't. I can't. I love him too much to lose him.

Shit. Why didn't I see this coming? I mean, I thought about it before, but it makes more sense now. And I can't just ignore it or pretend that I don't feel this way. If I get a chance to talk to Richie again, I'll have to tell him. Best friends don't keep secrets. And even if it ends our friendship… Well, that's on the rocks as it is, so I can't make that any worse. Maybe confessing my love will make things better. Maybe then, even if he doesn't love me back, he'll see that all I want is to take care of him.

This isn't just a crush, or a transient infatuation brought on by the fact that Daisy doesn't want to date me. I love Richie Foley.


	4. Part Two and Virgil's Thoughts cont

A/N: Hi again. Are you ready for a little fluff? I know I am.

Book I

From the Diary of Virgil Hawkins (1)Pg. 1

With Brainiac: Forward: The Story Behind the StoryPg. 2

Chapter OnePg. 4

From the Diary of Virgil Hawkins (2)Pg. 7

Chapter TwoPg. 10

From the Diary of Virgil Hawkins (3)Pg. 16

Chapter Three: First Nightmare: KluxPg. 18

Part One: On the Space StationPg. 18

Part Two: GraffitiPg. 24

Part Three: The Hospital, and the DiscoveryPg. 39

Interlude: Back with Brainiac (1)Pg. 53

Chapter Four: Second Nightmare: Marriage is a BlessingPg. 54

Part One: HomePg. 54

From the Diary of Virgil Hawkins (4)Pg. 60

Part Two: A Day in the Life of a SuperheroPg. 69

From the Diary of Virgil Hawkins (5)Pg. 79

**Telling Tales**

Part Two: A Day in the Life of a Superhero

This is Richie again. I keep saying I won't interrupt, but this is too painful to keep to myself. BP knows, and that's more of a comfort than I ever thought possible. But I want everyone else to understand what's wrong with me.

Virgil and I fought today. No, what we really did was throw words at each other and then I ran. I've run before from things, and it's never the right thing to do, but I can't shake the habit. Running and hiding used to be my only means of defending myself.

Then, when Virgil became Static, I would daydream about my best friend showing up and blasting my father into a thousand electrified pieces. There's only one problem with that: I still love my father, which is really screwed up, and I don't want to see anything happen to him.

So, back to today. I've caused enough problems, I think, with my cowardice. BP's in my mind, and it feels like he's trying to tell me I'm not a coward. But maybe that's just wishful thinking.

I need to call Virgil. But first, I need to calm down. It won't do me any good to call and apologize when I'm wound tighter than a spring.

At least Dad's working late tonight. Mom doesn't disturb me when I'm up here. The night is mine.

Writing about Brainiac probably won't help me calm down, but this next bit is nice. The way Brainiac really got to me was not with the terrible thing that happened at the end of each nightmare, but with the wonderful things that came before. In the first nightmare, there were things like Virg touching my shoulder, or just being there when I woke up or trying to defend me from Batman's attention. I know these things didn't really happen, but it's hard sometimes to separate fiction from fact.

I just called him Virg, didn't I? See? Any time I talk about the wonderful things V does for me- real or imagined- I calm right down. Let me write a little more and then I'll call him.

"Will they give you the holiday?" Virgil asked as he and Richie walked from their mouse-hole sized apartment to the Center, the community hangout for many of the youth in the area.

"Never. Gear gets more respect than Dr. Foley at the moment."

Virgil winked. "Maybe when you change your name to Hawkins they'll think more highly of you."

"Keep dreamin', Virg. The only way the administration would let me have that Thursday off is if my name were either Batman or Static Shock. And, at least from my perspective, I'm too cheerful to be the former, and too cute to be the latter."

"I don't need to be 'cute.' I'm downright sexy."

"And there I'll never dispute you." Richie snorted. "Now, can you stop sweating me over that one day? We'll leave as soon as my office hours are over."

"A three-day honeymoon just doesn't seem like enough."

"Didn't your dad say he and your mom didn't even get that because she never got more than a day off of work at a time? Being a paramedic is a lot more time-consuming than being a professor. Face it, V; not all of us have the honor of following in our father's footsteps and taking over his business."

"Well, I haven't exactly taken it over yet. I won't do that until he retires."

"Too bad Static and Gear don't get paid better."

"They don't get paid at all, last time I checked."

"It's times like now that I wish a Superheroes Union existed."

"If superheroing were easy, or profitable, everybody would do it."

"Speaking of that, you might not want to complain too much about the short honeymoon, V. Gear and Static don't take vacations, remember? At least they don't usually take them at the same time. I mean, who knows? A disaster might happen in the middle of the ceremony and we'd have to-"

Virgil groaned. "Do me a favor, Rich. Don't jinx us."

Richie smiled angelically. "I would never do such a thing."

The two of them were nearing the Center. They cut their banter short, noticing two boys slouching against the fence that ringed the Center.

"Do those two look familiar to you?" Virgil asked, nudging Richie.

Richie's eyes narrowed. "They look like a couple of delinquents that Static and Gear caught breaking into this place six months back. Must be out of Juvie."

"Shall we try to make friends again?"

"You try. I just seem to annoy them." Richie ducked in through an opening in the fence. "I'll tell Mr. H where you are."

Once he was inside, Richie glanced around quickly to see who was there already. He waved to a couple of rough-looking teens who seemed to trust him to a degree. "Hey, Bill. Hey, Raoul. Tell me the truth of why you two aren't in school today and I'll let you off the hook."

The two displayed the Suspension slips and Richie shook his head. "Were you fighting again?"

"Nope." Bill said. He was the more talkative of the two.

"Are you going to make me play twenty questions?" Richie asked.

"Brought our knives in."

Raoul scowled. "We weren't even going to use them! They were just in our lockers. You know. For later. Just in case."

Richie sighed. "All right. Shall we start our old tutoring schedule again?"

Bill groaned, but Raoul nodded. "I want to get out of Dakota," he said.

Richie glanced at Bill. "What about you?"

The lanky, dark-eyed boy pouted slightly. "Do we have to start tomorrow?"

Richie couldn't help but smile. Bill wanted to learn enough to make a life for himself, but he didn't want to seem uncool by being too eager. "The good news is, I can't tutor you tomorrow. The bad news is, that means I'll have to do it today."

"Are you going away again? Is the college sending you on another field trip with those preppy college kids?" Bill asked.

"No, Dumb-ass," Raoul answered for Richie. "Tomorrow's Saturday."

"I know that, you f-"

"Not in the Center, Bill," Richie interrupted. "And that goes for you, too, Raoul."

Raoul saluted insolently. "Yes, sir." But he was smiling. To Bill, he said, "Tomorrow is October 20th. Don't you remember what happens tomorrow? We're even invited."

Bill brightened. "The wedding!" He looked at Richie. "Are you still sure you want us to come? We'll eat all the food and ask for more."

"You'll have to fight Mr. Hawkins, Jr. off first," Richie answered, laughing. "And of course we want you there." His eyes were sparkling. "The church will look awfully empty unless all our friends from the Center come."

"Don't you guys have families?" Raoul asked.

"My fiancée does, but they can only take up so much room. The rest of the filling will have to be done by you guys."

"And it's cool if we show up in just jeans and shirts?"

"As long as the shirts don't say anything nasty on them, yes. Just remember that the same rules that apply here at the Center apply wherever we are. So, no gang colors, no disrespectful shirts-"

"No cigarettes," Bill interrupted, "and definitely no booze. Got it."

Richie smiled. "Right. Now, if you two will go find paper and pencils, I'll meet you on the basketball court in five minutes. I have to talk to Mr. H and let him know why I'm late."

"Where's H Junior?" Bill called over his shoulder.

Richie called over his shoulder just before he disappeared around the corner, "Outside, hopefully making friends with a couple of savage dogs." He made his way to the door of the main office. He noticed the door was closed, a thing that scarcely ever happened. He peeked through the window and saw Mr. Hawkins on the phone. Virgil's father looked ready to hit the ceiling. Richie thought about leaving, Robert looked up at that moment, caught Richie's eye, and nodded slightly, mouthing, "Come in."

Richie slipped inside, closing the door. He sat in the chair on the visitor side of the desk and watched Virgil's father, who had always acted like a second (and better) father to the blond.

Whoever was on the other end of the phone was giving Robert an earful. Richie saw the man roll his eyes several times. Once or twice, Robert even tried to get a word in, but he was forced into silence again. But finally the person on the other end of the phone seemed to be losing steam. Robert cleared his throat and said quickly, "I'll certainly tell Richie you called when I see him, but you know as well as I do that he doesn't actually work here, and to give you his home number would be a betrayal on my part. Good-bye, Mr. Foley." He hung up.

Richie felt as if he'd been punched in the stomach. He closed his eyes tight and bit his lip. At last, he managed, "When did he call?"

"About twenty minutes ago."

Richie flinched. "I'm sorry, Mr. H- I should have been here to take the call. It's just that V and I got a late start this morning and…" He sighed. "I'm sorry about him."

Robert reached across the desk and squeezed Richie's hand. "Don't apologize, Richie. Your father's attitude isn't your fault, nor is his behavior." He smiled. "Consider my intervention an early wedding present."

Richie blushed. "Thanks, Mr. H."

Robert shook his head. "Where is that lackadaisical son of mine, anyway?"

"He's trying to teach Tyrell and J'Quann to mind their manners."

Robert shook his head. "They're back?" He sighed. "Well, I'll keep an eye out for them." He stood. "For now, I have some banners to hang. Want to help?"

Richie also stood. "I can't. Bill Davies and Raoul Santiago were suspended. I'm going to tutor them for a bit."

Robert gave Richie a quick hug. "You're a Godsend, you know that, Doctor Hawkins?"

Richie blushed again, a grin coming close to splitting his ears. "I like hearing that," he murmured to himself. To Robert, he said, "I don't think most Godsends make much money, Mr. H. I'll have to continue working at the college for a while longer."

Robert nodded. "But one day, I'll either retire or be able to afford to pay Virgil. Then maybe you could spend more time here? A lot of the kids really like you."

"Maybe." As the two of them left the office, Richie asked, his mind drifting, much to his displeasure, back to his father's call, "What did he say to you?"

"Your father? Not much worth repeating."

"I'm sorry if he insulted you or anything."

"It doesn't bother me, Richie. That man's too little to worry about."

"What did he ask about me, besides my phone number?"

Robert tried to be casual. "He wanted to know when you'd be in. It seems your mother told him about you and Virgil."

Richie's breathing hitched for a moment, but then he asked, "Does he know we're getting married?"

"Yes. And that you're changing your last name."

"I should have never told Mom about that."

"She loves you very much, Richie. She wants so much for you to be happy. I'm sure she wouldn't tell him anything that would make you or Virgil uncomfortable. She didn't tell him where the ceremony is being held, after all, or even when."

"Yeah, you're right. I just wish she would stop talking to him. She divorced him. Doesn't he get the picture yet?"

Between tutoring Bill and Raoul (who were both quite bright, despite their bad choices), helping Robert put up the banners and working with Virgil to mount a new basketball hoop over the court outside, it was seven in the evening before Richie knew it, and time for he and Virgil to go on patrol.

Robert saw them off that evening.

"Go home before ten, okay, Pops?" Virgil asked as the three stood under the front lights of the Center. "This place closes at eight, so you should be able to manage that. You're in the ceremony tomorrow, remember?"

Robert laughed. "How could I forget? I'm giving away the groom." He winked at Richie. "Now, you two get out of here. Make sure your suits are pressed and your shirts don't have any stains on them. I'll see you bright and early at the church."

As the two lovers walked away, Richie asked, "Remind me again why your pops is giving me away. It still doesn't make sense."

Virgil grinned. "Well, first, even though we're both male, some traditions are too good to pass up. And since you're younger than me-"

"Only by two months!"

"-and shorter than me-"

Richie snorted at that, but didn't answer outright. He was almost six inches shorter than his lover.

"-we decided you should act the part of the bride, at least in that tradition. I'm the one wearing the garter during the reception, remember?"

Richie snickered. "Yeah, that was a very sweet concession of yours, I must admit."

Virgil cuffed him lightly. "So, quit complaining. We're both playing the lady part tomorrow. Be happy I didn't ask you to wear a dress. Isn't it enough that we're both dressing in white to show our virginity?"

"I thought little n—s like you liked to dress up," growled a voice from directly behind them.

The two whirled as one, and Virgil moved a step forward, determined to meet the threat before it could get to Richie. Four white-robed figures faced them.

_As if fighting the Bang Babies, the Cobras and plain old criminals isn't enough, we have to fight the KKK too. _Richie set himself squarely beside Virgil, his eyes flashing. The Ku Klux Klan had always had an underground foothold in Dakota. Maybe it was because so many of the organization's dispossessed members had moved to the city in the late eighties, or maybe it was just that Dakota's police seemed not to take notice of hate crimes in general, but the KKK had thrived in this one city even though it had diminished in so many others. _Besides, _Richie thought, _the KKK doesn't just hate black people. They hate Mexicans, they hate gays, and they hate 'white boys' like me that mix with people of another color or race._

_I always thought Dad would make a great member of the Klan._ Richie often tried to convince himself that he was being unfair to his father, who, though he made it obvious that he hated Virgil and all his 'kind', had never actually raised a hand to Richie's lover, or, as far as Richie knew, to any other African-American.

"It makes you feel like civilized humans instead of the monkeys you are," the same voice continued.

"I'd be careful if I were you," Virgil retorted. "I hear Static and Gear patrol this area all the time. They'll blast you from here to Lake Dakota if they catch you out in your bedding. They'll get you for inappropriate dress and cruelty to sheets if nothing else."

One of the other robed figures flicked out a knife. "I suggest you shut your mouth, N—Boy, or I'll shut it for you."

Richie felt a hand close on his shoulder from behind in an iron grip. He thrashed and cried out, but an instant later other hands seized him and someone closed an alcohol-smelling palm over his mouth. _I should have known the talk was a distraction, _Richie thought, disgusted with himself.

Virgil spun, his eyes narrowing in rage. "Let him go," he snarled, his hands balling into fists.

"Say please," the man who had spoken first said. He and the rest of his friends moved closer to Virgil, hemming him in.

Richie felt the bite of a knife under his chin and he met Virgil's gaze. _I love you, V. I love you. Whatever happens next, I love you. _It was what he always said before the two of them went into battle. They knew that each time they went to defend Dakota they walked into danger. And Virgil would answer Richie each time, _I love you, my Gear, my Richie, my own. You be careful, I'll be careful, and we'll share a kiss when this is all over._

"Please," Virgil said.

"Beg me for his life, N—Boy. Beg me to let your little whore go."

Virgil's eyes blazed at that. Then, suddenly, he looked straight up. "Static! Here! Static, help us!"

The white-robes all looked up, some of them muttering nervously about attacking people on Static's beat. Virgil took advantage of the distraction to steal all of their weapons with his powers. He flung them far away.

That was enough for the group of cowardly men; they let go of Richie, turned tail, and fled. Virgil at once went to Richie and took him in his arms. "Richie. Richie. Richie," he murmured, running his hands over Richie's arms and torso, making sure that not so much as a single mark had been left on his lover.

But Richie pulled away from him a little. "V," he said urgently, because Virgil was still trying to examine him, "we'd better get into costume before they return, just in case they find their guts."

For a moment, Virgil acted as if he hadn't heard. Then he sighed. "You're right."

Two minutes later, in costume and in the air, the two superheroes cruised over Dakota, investigating one dark corner after another, spying on Dakota's bad crowd.

"Maybe we should start changing closer to the Center," Gear suggested.

On his back, Backpack beeped a warning.

"Burglary?" Static asked.

Gear laughed. "Why do you bother trying to distinguish between his beeps? They all sound the same."

"I'm stubborn. So, what is it?"

"Well, since BP and I are connected through my mind-"

Static rolled his eyes. "Quit showing off."

"We're needed near the waterfront. There was a small explosion there, and heavy meta-human activity." As one, they turned east and picked up speed.

Two hours later, Virgil dragged himself into the bedroom. "Remind me why we do this. I know it isn't because we like dumpsters, fires or insane, axe-wielding Bang Babies."

Richie, just as exhausted, but knowing full well that he was in charge of his partner's morale- just as Virgil was in charge of his- answered, "I thought we were doing it because you look sexy as hell when you're in your Static costume."

"And not otherwise?" But Richie could tell by Virgil's voice that the other man was smiling.

"Nope. When you're out of costume, you look only sexy. And when you're naked… Well, then my heart fairly stops with the power of you." Richie grinned.

Virgil turned and opened his arms. "Richie, you're so-"

"There is no way I'm hugging you right now, V. We both look and smell like we were thrown into the city dump and left there for a couple of years to gain flavor. Get in the shower with me and we can hug and scrub there."

Virgil groaned. "If we do that, we'll break our promise. And if we've held off this long, even though we're sleeping in the same bed and see each other naked often, I'd just as soon actually make our wedding night our first night."

Richie's smile could have been called demure; the look in his eyes was anything but. "Go take your shower then."

Virgil shook his head. "No can do, Gear. I was the first one to get cleaned up last time. Go take your shower. You take quicker ones, anyway." As Richie, still smiling, passed him, Virgil swatted him lightly on the ass, then groaned at the squelching noise his hand made against Richie's backside.

Richie darted a glance at him.

Virgil made a face. "Okay, no touching until we're both clean."

Richie arranged himself in the bed while he waited for Virgil to get out of the shower. As always, he slept in boxers and a tee-shirt. There was no reason to tempt Virgil or himself. As Virgil had said, they had waited a long time; what difference would one more night make? 'And if we're really going to be "brides" tomorrow, we may as well go all the way and be the virgins brides had to be once.'

Virgil emerged from the bathroom in a cloud of steam, his hair hanging everywhere. Richie laughed; he couldn't help it. Wet, Virgil always looked about fifteen years younger, as if he didn't know anything about puberty and was still the semi-innocent ten year old he'd once been. "I don't know if I can sleep with you, Little V. It might be considered child molestation."

Virgil growled, tossed his wet towel at Richie then, when the other was distracted, jumped on him, shaking the bed and stealing Richie's breath with both his sudden weight and a kiss.

Gasping and wriggling, Richie tried to free himself. But Virgil wouldn't be shaken so easily. He continued to kiss Richie in that deep and searching way, cupping his lover's face between his strong hands. As Richie cased to struggle, giving himself over completely to the kiss, Virgil moved down a little, taking some of his weight off the blond. Their covered members touched, and both of them gasped.

Virgil sat up. "I'm making this hard, aren't I?" Then he winced at the pun he'd made.

Laughing, Richie couldn't resist answering, "You made me very hard indeed. Maybe we should sleep now?"

Virgil nodded. "Yeah… we'd better."

Richie turned on his side and curled up. Virgil spooned behind him, his arms wrapped around his lover's waist.

Against the back of Richie's neck, Virgil whispered, "I love you."

Richie reached down and squeezed Virgil's hands where they were laced together just above his bellybutton. "I can't wait until everyone has to call me Dr. Hawkins."

"Hopefully no one confuses you with my sister."

Richie laughed and moved back a little, getting as close to Virgil as humanly possible. "I love you, V."

"Love you, too. 'Night, Rich."

"Good night, Virg."

Two seconds later… "Uh, Richie?"

"Yeah?"

"We were attacked in the street today."

Richie yawned. "So?"

Virgil sat up, dragging the covers off his fiancée. "So, that means we have an opportunity to put your suggestion into action."

"What sugg… Oh." Richie turned over and looked up at Virgil. "I'm all right, V. Really."

"That's what you always say." Virgil opened his arms. "Come on, Rich; let's talk."

Richie sat up and snuggled against his lover. "All right, V. After all, I don't want to be the one to give you a black eye the night before your wedding."

Twenty minutes later, content and comfortable, Richie having talked, and Virgil offering suggestions and words of love, the two were asleep. Neither of them was troubled by nightmares.

Me again. That was bad. It hurt more than I thought it would. And it also really made me want to have V right here so I can beg his forgiveness. On my knees, if necessary. I need him here.

From the Diary of Virgil Hawkins/Static Shock

Dear Diary,June 1, 2003

It'll be June 2nd in a couple minutes, but for now it's not quite midnight. I feel like a huge stone has been lifted off my chest. Richie called me.

I was lying flat on my back on my bed, feeling miserable and guilty and frustrated and helpless. Just when I thought I might go nuts from all the things running around in my head, my Shock Vox buzzed. I dove under my bed and hit the talk button. "Rich? Richie, is that you?" As if it could be anyone else.

"V…" He sounded near tears. "V, I'm-I'm so-" Richie sobbed.

"I'll be right over. Don't move."

Richie cleared his throat, tried to get control of himself. "You'll have to sneak in."

"Static will be right there. Just stay put."

"Kay."

Only a few minutes later, though it seemed like much longer to me, I was using my powers to open Richie's window. He was huddled on the bed, Backpack beside him, wiping away my best friend's tears with a tissue. There were a pile of tissues in the garbage can and on the floor. Backpack wasn't looking where he aimed. Even as I watched, Backpack tossed a tissue almost straight at me.

Richie looked up. He wasn't wearing his glasses, and he squinted a little. He sat up, Backpack moving a little closer to him.

I went to Richie immediately, sat down beside him and hugged him close.

His arms snaked around my waist and he buried his head in my shoulder. "I'm sorry, V… Shouldn't have run away… I freaked."

"You had every right to." I tightened my hold on him. "Please don't run again, Richie. You scared me. And… Well, I was being an idiot. Forget everything I wrote, okay?"

"I just wanted you to be protected… I don't want you to know what he does… I don't want…" Richie wept. "I'm scared, V. I don't want to leave Dakota. I don't want to stop being Gear. I don't want to leave you." Then he suddenly pulled away and met my gaze. "I didn't mean it- that you remind me of Brainiac. I didn't mean that at all."

I pulled him against me again. "Richie, I know. We all say stuff we don't mean." Then, trying to do an impression of a cabbie from New York, I said, "Foggeddaboudit."

Richie laughed, still against my shoulder, and hugged me so hard I thought my ribs would crack. It felt so good to be squeezed by him. "V, I… I want to tell you something." His face was turned away so I couldn't read his expression. "Please don't be angry with me if you don't like this. Just say, "No, Richie," and I'll never bring it up again. I'm happy just as we are. It's only… I want you to know, in case something happens to me."

"Nothing's going to happen to you, Rich; I'll make sure of that."

Richie swallowed. "Well, just in case… and because I don't want to keep it to myself anymore." But for a long moment Richie didn't say anything. He swallowed several more times and cleared his throat.

Backpack moved even closer to Richie, slipping one "arm" around Rich and almost between the two of us, as if he thought Richie needed to be comforted. Or protected.

"I need you, V. I'm your sidekick just like Gear is Static's. With you, I do all right, and I can even help. But I'd never make it on my own."

I opened my mouth, wanting to tell him he didn't need me, that he could be strong without me, that he'd survived Brainiac without me.

Before I could manage to say any of these things, though, Richie spoke again. "I love you. I've loved you for at least a year. Please, V…" He looked up at me, his eyes bright. "I need you. I'd rather be your friend than nothing at all, but I had to tell you. In case they make me leave."

I wanted to kiss him. Richie had more courage than I did- he'd confessed his feelings before I'd even dreamed about telling him my own. But something stopped me from just grabbing him and crushing my lips against his.

Richie was gazing up at me, his eyes anxious and fearful. I had to tell him, but my voice wouldn't work. I hugged him against me, and laid my cheeks on top of his head. He was trembling slightly. I finally managed to make my voice work. "I love you, too, Rich." My voice was hoarse, but at least it worked.

He pulled away a little and fumbled for his glasses on his nightstand. Backpack handed them over and Richie slipped them over his ears. He met my gaze, and there was no way to read his expression. "What will you do to me now?"

I blinked. "Do?" I echoed stupidly. "Like what?"

Richie had pulled away from me completely and now there was no question that Backpack was taking a defensive position between the two of us. "Will you kiss me?" He bit his lip. "Or hurt me?"

It was on the tip of my tongue to ask him what made him think I would hurt him, but then I looked in his eyes, and the answer was written there as if with black ink. Brainiac. Brainiac- and whatever the evil machine had done- had hurt Richie, and was making him hesitant and unsure.

I decided to come to the answer in a roundabout way. It would give me a chance to think of a way to phrase my promise. I had to make sure that I didn't say something that would remind him of Brainiac in any way. The trouble was, I didn't know what the sadistic supercomputer had done. "Richie, I love you. I've been trying to figure out a way to tell you." I felt my cheeks growing hot with embarrassment. "I wanted to tell you. It's just… Virgil isn't as brave as Static." I grinned a little, looking at him to see how he was taking my words. "Remember when Static first came to Dakota Union High and met everyone? Remember how smooth he was with Frieda? Virgil could never be that smooth. It's just not in his vocabulary."

Do I sound schizophrenic? I promise I'm not; it's just that I _do_ lead two separate lives as Virgil and Static. There are crossovers between the two- if there weren't, I'd really be schizo- but some things are only true for me when I'm in costume or out of it. Richie's like that, too. Gear is forceful and serious. Richie jokes and tends to be quiet in class. Anyway, now that I've totally confused myself, let's get back to Richie's room, three hours ago.

"I remember," Richie said, and, much to my relief, he was smiling a little. "Virgil's better than Static in some ways, though. He's less of a stupid-risk-taker."

"Are you saying I'm stupid or the risks I take as Static are stupid?" My grin had spread, and I was able to relax slightly, even though I didn't know if Richie would trust me to love him the way he deserved to be loved. I couldn't help thinking, _Even if he won't take me as a boyfriend, it's obvious we still work as friends._

I reached out- slowly, so that Backpack wouldn't think I was going to hit Richie- and touched my friend's hand. "We'll be learning the way together, Rich. I've never been gay before. And you _know_ I haven't been with anyone before. For crying out loud, the closest I've come to a real date was when Static rescued Daisy and carried her off on his saucer. We should probably take it slow, but I don't think most things are going to change. As your friend, I would never hurt you- except with idiotic words of course-"

Richie snorted.

"-and I won't hurt you if we're together. You're my man, Rich; I need you, I love you, and…" I blushed, running out of words.

Richie moved closer to me. Backpack also moved- though somewhat reluctantly, unless I was imagining things. He gave Richie and me a little space. Richie and I just stared at each other for a moment. I don't know if he felt as nervous as I did. Then Richie closed the distance, brought his hand up behind my head, and kissed me, his lips slightly parted.

I never thought Richie would be an experienced kisser. Caught between shock and delight, I put my hand behind his head and kissed back, trying to match his mouth shape. How did he know what he was doing?

Richie's lips parted a little more and I copied him. They drew in at the corners and I matched their new feel.

After a few more moments of this- I was actually enjoying the game- Richie pulled back. "V, what are you doing?"

"Kissing you?" I was blushing again. "What did I do wrong?"

"We aren't playing follow the leader," Richie answered. But he was smiling instead of frightened, which is what I'd been worried about when he stopped kissing me. The last thing I wanted in the world was to push him away now that I had him.

"Huh?" Oh, real swift, Virgil. Try Static. "Did I hurt you?" Okay, at least that sounds better, even if it is a stupid question. Richie looks more amused and touched than anything.

"No." Richie moved close again, but didn't resume the kiss. "Don't try to match what I'm doing. Just do whatever feels natural." Once again, he kissed me.

This time, I focused on how it felt. Richie's lips were different than I would have thought. I guess I was expecting a wet feeling, and I was definitely expecting them to be… squishier. I'm blushing again while I write this. But if his lips weren't either of those things, they didn't feel wrong, either.

Richie broke the kiss again. He was grinning.

"What now?" I asked.

"Nothing." Richie tried to hug me, but it felt awkward. Apparently, he noticed this, because he let go of me and took my hands.

Getting the picture, I hugged him instead. Much better. Maybe it's because I'm taller when we're sitting (and standing) or because my arms are a little longer, but it felt more natural for me to hold Richie. And hadn't Richie just gotten done telling me to do what felt natural? I rested my chin on top of his head. Richie sighed, leaning even more against me. I tightened my embrace suddenly, wanting him as close as I could get.

"I love you, V."

"I love you, too, Richie." Then I remembered how alone and lost he'd sounded on the Shock Vox. He was crying when I first showed up. I asked, not wanting to break the comfortable moment, but needing to know if he was truly all right, "Did you have another nightmare, man?"

Richie was quiet for so long that I didn't think he'd heard me. "Richie?"

"It wasn't a nightmare. I haven't slept." He was trembling again.

"Richie, whatever it is, I can-"

Richie sat up. He was looking down at our hands, which had found each other when he'd pulled away. "It was us, V. I was so afraid you wouldn't accept me. Or that…" He sighed. "And it's other stuff, too, but I need to write it down. Maybe if I write it, I'll figure it out."

"Richie? Man, what are you talking about?"

"Batman said- well actually, didn't say, but might have, if things were different-"

"Rich, slow down. You've totally lost me." I grasped his shoulders and urged him to look at me.

I could see the shine of unshed tears in his eyes, and his voice wasn't steady. "I'm trying the best way I know to heal. When I finish writing what I'm writing, will you read it? Maybe if I write it and you read it…" He looked away once more. "But I don't want you to have nightmares. I don't want to burden you with this."

"Richie, look at me, man. " He did. "Your burden is my burden. I'm here for you. I've got your back and you've got mine. Right?"

He smiled a little. "Always."

"Then write what you have to write, I'll read it, and everything will be okay." I added, because he was still looking nervous, "I promise, Richie. I would never leave you hangin'. I love you."

Richie's smile broadened and he flung his arms around me. We fell back against the mattress- and then flipped over. I'd been sitting half on and half off the bed without realizing it. We hit the floor- Richie on top of me- and both of us grunted. But we were both laughing hysterically, and when Richie started tickling me, I counterattacked with every trick I-Virgil- could use. It wouldn't have been fair to use Static tricks on him. Besides, if I did that he might send Backpack after me.

I think I would have won that battle, but suddenly Backpack's alarm went off. In a flash, but Richie and I were on our feet. Backpack stopped at once, then dove under the bed. From downstairs came the distinctive sound of someone stomping about.

"Dad's home!" Richie pushed me towards the window. "Go! Go! If I pretend I'm asleep, he won't do anything. Go!"

So, I went. But I'm not fool; I hid under Richie's window until someone opened his bedroom door.

"Maggie, did he do all his homework?"

"Yes, right after supper."

"Good. And what was he doing today?"

"He's working on a project for science that's due next month."

Mr. Foley grunted. "Why's he always so tired?"

"He told me they're running the mile in P.E."

"About time they start giving the kid some worthy education." The bedroom door closed.

I peeked into the room. Richie was on his side, facing me. He mouthed, "Go!" then smiled. I left.

Remember how I said it felt as if a weight had been lifted off my chest? I feel like I've grown wings, too.

By the way, it is now June 2nd. Time for me to get some sleep, or I'll be falling asleep in History again. Why do they put the boring classes in the first part of the day?

**Sailor Vegeta: Actually, I'm glad you're confused. That means I was doing my job. Richie's confused, not knowing if he's sixteen or twenty-six. So, the reader needed to feel and experience that confusion, too. Did you make sense of it in the end? I hope you're not still confused. If that's true, then I went too far. **

**Also, about Virgil not going after Richie: maybe he wasn't sure if he was calm enough to talk to Richie. Plus, he might be afraid of driving Richie away again. I'm just guessing, though, since I don't understand all of Virgil's motivations.**

**Pathetic Krypton: The point of view is omniscient because Brainiac controls what Richie sees and hears. In a very real sense, Richie isn't control of his world. Plus, Richie wanted to distance himself from the story a little, hence the third-person.**

**I honestly don't know how long the story is going to go. I have a story in the works that's five hundred and something pages long (Lord of the Rings) but others wrap themselves up in a hundred pages or less. We'll see.**

**Thank you for the high praise. **

**Dimitri Aidan: LOL! I love flying pink elephants. And I guess having too much Richie is like too much of a good thing. Besides, I love Virgil, and I don't want him to get the short end of the stick here.**


	5. Part Three, Back with Brainiac and RIchi...

**A/N: Here's the end of book one. Book two is in the works. Fair warning: you'll be getting longer chapters, but less of them. That doesn't mean fewer updates (I hope) but means you'll switch perspectives inside chapters. If doing that during the first chapter (coming soon) drives anybody nuts, or confuses them a lot, please let me know. I'm thinking about breaking them into smaller chapters to make it less confusing. And now: on with the nightmare.**

Part Three: Marital BlissPg. 86

Interlude: Back with Brainiac (2) Pg. 97

A Short Conversation Pg. 99

Part Three: Marital Bliss

He loves me! He loves me! He loves me!

I haven't been able to sleep. If I can finish this last bit- the worst bit- tonight, V can read it tomorrow after school. I know I'll be exhausted in school, but Gear's gone for two days without sleeping, so Richie Foley can do it too.

Okay, one last mile. Then I'll be able to show this to V… Err, Gear, how 'bout you write this part?

Richie and Virgil stood at the end of the aisle and considered the altar at the other end. Suddenly, a voice called-

Stop! Okay, Gear can't write this. As Gear, I can't show how I really felt. I can only tell facts. Guess it's time for Richie to be brave. Wish me luck, BP.

Richie fumbled with the buttons on his shirt-cuff. He had never been talented at buttoning things left-handed. _Some super genius I am. I need ot invent an invention to do this for me._ He shook his head. _I have, but I can't use Backpack right now. Adam's waiting just outside the door. He could come in at any minute. Then my cover- and probably V's cover- would be blown._ Gritting his teeth, he tried again, his frustration growing. _I need to hurry up. I bet V's been dressed for half an hour. _He grinned a little at himself when he remembered trying to decide on his costume as Gear. He'd been standing in front of a mirror, admiring the result, and had asked Virgil, "Well, what do you think?"

Typically, V was laughing with his eyes even as he tried to act exasperated. "I think you're spending more time in front of the mirror than my sister, and it's starting to worry me."

"You have a happy thought in your head."

Richie glanced up and smiled at Adam, Sharon's husband. "Yeah, I guess I do." He held up the still-unbuttoned cuff. "But this is driving me nuts. Would you mind?"

Adam stepped up and easily fastened the button. "There you go." He smiled at Riche. "Are you nervous?"

Richie hesitated. "Were you when you and Sharon got married?"

"Are you kidding? I was so scared I almost turned into Rubberband Man and pounced away."

Richie laughed. He was glad Rubberband Man and Static had, after several fights, at last made friends. He liked Adam, and didn't want to cause any friction between himself and Virgil. Adam was about six years older than he and Virgil, which out him just a year older than Sharon. But he'd never acted conceited or snobbish with Virgil and Richie, who had admittedly been very nosy, excitable teenagers.

"Well, I can't turn into anything, but my knees still feel like rubber." Richie glanced in the mirror, made sure his hair was as neat as it was going to get, and took a deep breath. "I'm ready."

Adam squeezed his shoulder. "You'll be fine."

As one, they left Richie and Virgil's bedroom. Virgil had gone to his father's house to change; they were following all practices to the letter. And since Richie was the "bride" first, being escorted by Mr. Hawkins and so forth, he and Virgil couldn't see each other until the ceremony.

"Do you have everything?" Adam asked as Richie slipped into his suit jacket.

Richie smiled. "Almost. I have to do one thing more- it's a Foley tradition. Can I be alone for a minute?"

Adam blinked, then nodded. "I'll be out in the car."

Richie waited until he was alone, then knelt down by the bed. "Here, BP," he whispered.

Backpack slipped out from under the bed and came to Richie, touching his arm lightly. He beeped softly.

"I know, buddy. I don't want to leave you here, but I have no choice. Stay here and I'll give you every detail when I get back."

Beep.

"Virg will take care of me. Hasn't he always?"

Beep.

"He did try to save me from Brainiac. He did save me. And besides, that was ten years ago. I don't think about it anymore, remember?"

Beep.

"So what if I did yesterday? I was just waking up from a nightmare or something…"

Beep.

"I didn't have any nightmares? I was just here? Backpack, you're not making any sense." Richie started to stand. "I have to go; I'll be late."

Backpack caught Richie's arm with two of his arms. Beep. Beep.

Richie groaned. "There are _not_ two people inside me, Backpack. I was just confused when I woke up, that's all. Besides, how could there be two people inside me."

Beep.

"Sixteen? I haven't been sixteen in-"

Beep.

"Stop interrupting me! I haven't been sixteen-"

Beep.

"I am NOT sixteen!"

Beep.

Richie shivered. "No… No, Backpack, don't say that. Take it back!" Richie grabbed the robot and shook him. "I'm not sixteen! I'm not deluding myself! And I'm not with Brainiac!" Richie dropped Backpack and waved his arm around. "Look at this place! This is our apartment. This is the room I've shared with V since-"

Beep. Beep. Beep.

Richie burst into tears. "I'm not sixteen," he sobbed. "I'm twenty-six, and I'm about to marry Virgil Hawkins. Please don't do this to me, Backpack."

_But you were disoriented when you woke up. You were weak._

_Emotionally!_ twenty-six year old Richie snapped.

_And physically. You were frightened and confused. Remember what I promised myself. If I realized that Brainiac might be controlling me, I would look for an escape hatch. Well, now Backpack's warning us both, and-_

_I don't want to hear it!_ Richie straightened and stalked from the room, slamming the door.

_Please listen to me!_ sixteen-year old Richie cried. _If I'm wrong, if we're not with Brainiac, then this won't matter. But if I'm right-_

_I won't even think about it! I'm getting married to V, and that's the end of it! Now shut up and leave me alone!_ Forcibly, Richie turned his mind from the voice in his head and focused only on walking down the stairs to where Adam was waiting to drive him to the church. Sixteen-year old Richie was carried along for the ride, and his protests slowly faded as he was filled with the other's excitement. And without Backpack to issue warnings, he was alone in trying to fight what was going to happen. And Richie- young, lost and frightened- was too tired to fight very hard. Brainiac seemed to have taken the last of his will.

"Rich, you look like an angel."

Richie had been standing at the back of the church, near the doors, staring at the altar. It looked so intimidating, like flashes of light in the distance that signaled a fierce battle, one that he and Static would join very soon. When Virgil spoke, the blond turned and smiled, his ears turning pick.

"V, we aren't supposed to see each other."

"Well, I didn't know you were going to be standing here, but when I saw you I couldn't just walk past." Virgil had been standing in an alcove, and he crossed to Richie, opening his arms.

Richie returned the embrace, but didn't kiss Virgil. "We'd better get going. You're supposed to be up there-" he nodded towards the altar, the choir room beyond- "and I'm supposed to be in back."

Virgil kissed Richie's cheek, then pulled away. But they couldn't quite leave each other yet. As one, they turned to gaze at the altar.

"Richie?" A voice spoke softly from behind them.

Richie turned, ready to smile at his mother. But the fear in her face froze the smile on his lips. He broke away from Virgil and walked to her. "What is it?"

"Your father is here." She refused to meet her son's gaze. "He swore that he just wants to make amends. He said he doesn't want to think about you being gay, but he wants to see you happy."

Virgil demanded, "Where is he?" He was standing very close to Richie.

"Outside." She bit her lip, just as Richie did many times. "I don't think he will do anything to upset you, Richie. Please give him this last chance. You are his only son. Shouldn't a father be able to see his son get married?"

_I don't want him here!_ Richie longed to scream._ I don't want him to ruin this! I want it to be perfect!_

But he looked at Virgil first, and couldn't say anything. Virgil believed in giving people second chances. "He can come in," Richie said. "But if he says one thing wrong, to V or any of his family, he's gone."

She nodded, then grasped Richie's hand. "You're so forgiving, Richie." She turned and left the church.

At once, Richie turned to Virgil. "I'm going into the back. You'd better get up front. Everyone will be coming in soon." He started to turn away, but Virgil caught his arm.

"It will be all right, Richie; I promise. This will still be the best day of our lives so far." He squeezed Richie's arm. "Do you trust me?"

"With my life, V."

Virgil leaned close so that his lips brushed against Richie's ear. "I love you, my Gear, my Richie, my own. You be careful, I'll be careful, and we'll share a kiss when this is all over."

Richie smiled, and all was well again. They went their separate ways.

In a small room off the main sanctuary, Richie paced. The ceremony started in ten minutes, but he had been in the tiny room for almost a quarter of an hour already, and in that time some interesting forms of hell had begun to brew in his mind. What if his father screamed at he and Mr. Hawkins as they walked up the aisle? What if he shouted something at Virgil when the African-American put the ring on Richie's finger?

_What if this is just Brainiac trying to mess with you/me/us?_ Richie's sixteen-year old self put in. _It's not too late to stop this. Let's just get out of here, find Backpack and get out of this nightmare._

And of course there was the added frustration of the intruder in his mind.

_If this all is an illusion, then Backpack isn't real._

_Some part of him is. He wouldn't be trying to help if that wasn't true. Backpack is part of Brainiac, too, remember?_

_There is a lot about that time that I've forgotten, or made myself forget._

_Or that Brainiac's trying to hide from you/me/u-._

_Stop it! I'm getting married to Virgil Hawkins, and that's that. Whoever or whatever you are, leave me alone. You're probably just some sort of stress-creature, a thing created by my own mind because I'm nervous about Dad and-_

_I existed a long time before you knew your father was going to show up here. And say what you want to Adam, but I know you aren't that nervous about marrying Virg. You can't wait to be married. Your heart skips a beat every time you think of the future with him. Now, I'm not blaming you, but maybe you're the created one, _sixteen-year old Richie tried again._ Brainiac might have created you to distract me. And it's worked so far, but the more I think about it, the more sure I am that none of this really exists. I've got to find a way to get out of here. Please, if any part of you isn't under Brainiac's control, help me get back to where I belong. Maybe this is the future or something, and I've been transported into your mind._ (He didn't believe it, but it behooved him to talk softly if he wanted the other's help.) _If that's true, then all I need to do is find a way back, then you'll be free to love Virg. And I can get back to loving my own V in secret._

_Why don't you tell him about- What am I saying? I'm losing my mind._

_Damn it, Richard Osgood Foley, listen to me! And if you won't listen to me, Richie, please, Gear, think about this with that dangerously brilliant brain of yours! There is something seriously wrong here! Please help me figure out what's wrong! Please help me!_

A hand was laid on his shoulder and Richie opened his eyes. He didn't know when he'd squeezed them shut, or when he'd put his hands over his face, or when he'd fallen to his knees, for that matter, but he was grateful for whoever had interrupted him.

Virgil's father was kneeling beside him, his face grave with concern. "Richie? Richie, what is it?"

"N-nothing, Mr. H. Just pre-marriage jitters, I guess."

"You're white as a sheet, Richie. Are you sure it isn't anything else?"

"Well, and Dad's here. Mom brought him. She wants me to give him one last chance."

Mr. Hawkins groaned. "That's what's wrong, then." He hugged Richie against him. "I promise, Richie; this will all go smoothly. And if he starts any trouble, I'll take care of him. He's in a room full of people that love you and Virgil deeply. I'm sure that even if it occurred to him to do something, he'd rethink it in a hurry. Please believe me, Richie."

"I do, Mr. H. I'll be okay." Richie closed his eyes for a moment. _Look,_ he said to the annoying, scary voice in his mind, and to that part of himself that was Gear because that part, too, was starting to grumble, _just let me get through this ceremony. Then I'll do whatever you want. Just let me get married to V._

_That might be too late, _Gear answered at once. _If Backpack has already waned you-_

_Please? It will only be an hour. Then I swear I will help in each and every way I can._

_He's going to do what he wants, with or without our permission,_ Gear told sixteen-year old Richie. _We may as well go along. We'll get further if he agrees to help us later._

_And what if he's lying?_

_He really is you, even if Brainiac is in control of this universe. I think you can still affect him, and can know what he'll really do._

_And how can I trust you? What if you're part of Brainiac?_

Gear said, _Close your mental eyes. _Richie obeyed. _Now, open them._

Sixteen-year old Richie stared. He had never seen 'himself' in his mind. It was Gear, but he was still sixteen. Even as Richie watched, his twin removed his helmet.

_I am you, Richie. The other Gear- the older one- isn't here right now. I've isolated him from all of this. It is Brainiac- I know it is- but there's no way you'll get control of this body right now if you keep protesting. Let the other Richie lower his guard, then you can break free. If you struggle now, Brainiac will do what he did last time. He'll freeze you so you can't react at all, then he'll make you do what he demands._

The words made sense, and the younger Richie understood that he was talking to himself at last. _All right,_ he said to the older Richie, _I'll help you._

_Thank you._

"Richie? Are you sure you're all right?" Mr. Hawkins asked.

"Yeah. I'll be okay. Is it time to go?"

"Yes." He helped Richie to his feet and then hugged him. "I love you, son."

Richie blushed. "I love you, too… Pops?"

"Pops is good. Or Mr. H., or whatever makes you comfortable."

The two of them left the small room, Mr. Hawkins following Richie, and entered the sanctuary. In the pews on the right sat more of Virgil's family than Richie had ever met all in one place. His father's three sisters, and his mother's brother, James, were there. So were many of his cousins, second cousins and family friends. There was a tight knot of friends from school, both high school and college. Richie spotted Frieda, Daisy, Jimmy and others. On the other side, close to the front, sat Sharon, Adam, their young son Ovid… and Richie's parents. Richie refused to look at the back of his father's head for long. At least his mother was sitting between his father and Sharon. A little closer to where Richie and Mr. Hawkins stood sat some of Richie's and Virgil's lesser-known friends. Perhaps that wasn't the best way to describe them. Many of them were well-known; it just wasn't known that they were friends of Virgil and Richie. Bruce Wayne (aka Batman) was there. So was Clark Kent (aka Superman). The rest of the Justice League (or their alter egos) had sent presents not wanting to attract too much attention, or have too many questions asked. Bruce was a millionaire; he was used to social gatherings. And Clark was a reporter in Metropolis. He knew how to dodge questions and give answers that weren't really answers at all.

And, up near the altar, glorious as a sunrise in his white suit, stood Virgil. His eyes shone and his megawatt smile beamed out at everyone.

Mr. Hawkins squeezed Richie's shoulder. "Ready?"

Richie grinned. "I'm ready."

Both sixteen-year old Richie and his twin, Gear, were stunned by how perfect Virgil looked, and for a moment they forgot where they really were, and what was really happening. _He looks like a miracle,_ young Richie thought.

_He looks like the superhero he is, _Gear answered, slightly shaken.

The music began, and Richie began to walk, Mr. Hawkins keeping pace beside them. They walked slowly, but Richie felt as if he was floating. He couldn't take his eyes off Virgil. That smile was just for him, he thought. Just for him. Richie Foley. Very, very soon to be Richie Hawkins. Richie answered Virgil's megawatt smile with one of his own. _I love you, V. I love you. Whatever happens, always remember that I love you._

_Stop messing with me, Richie,_ the older Richie snapped, resisting the urge to shiver as the words flitted across his mind. This wasn't a battle he was going to. _You promised you wouldn't interfere. Nothing's going to happen._

_It wasn't me. I swear._

_Gear?_

_My mental lips are sealed._

Richie shook his head and kept walking. _Just keep quiet. Both of you. This is almost over._

He mounted the steps to the altar. Virgil reached out at once and took his hand, drawing him to his side. The two of them faced the pastor and knelt. Virgil kept Richie's hand in his.

"Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to join Virgil Ovid Hawkins and Richard Osgood Foley in holy matrimony…"

The preacher continued to speak, but Richie was taken up completely with the feel of Virgil's hand around his. He had never felt so at peace, even considering the voices in his head, and even the fact that his father sat only a few feet behind him. He had never felt better. _In only a few minutes, I'll be married to V for the rest of my life._ Tears formed in the corners of his eyes.

Virgil leaned close and squeezed Richie's hand. They both turned their eyes back to the preacher. They exchanged rings- Richie was shocked at how amazing it felt to actually wear the ring Virgil handed him- and then it was time for the final vows.

"Do you, Virgil Hawkins, swear to cherish Richard Foley? To love and to hold him, in sickness and in health, for richer or poorer til death do you part?"

"I do."

"Do you, Richard Foley, swear to cherish Virgil Hawkins? To love and to hold him, in sickness and in health, for richer or poorer til death do you part?"

Richie's mouth felt so dry he couldn't imagine how his voice was going to get out. He swallowed once, twice, three times. "I do."

"Then, by the power vested in me, I pronounce you married before all that are gathered here. I also beg you to see them as Virgil and Richard Hawkins from now on." The pastor smiled and mouthed, "Go ahead. Kiss."

Virgil turned to Richie and drew him so close Richie thought they would meld into one person. He closed his eyes and allowed himself to forget everything in the world except the taste and feel of Virgil's lips.

Then everyone was applauding (the group from the Center were whoopin' and hollerin' and pounding each other on the back) and Richie and Virgil stood, facing them.

Virgil put his arm around Richie's shoulders. "I love you, Richie," he whispered.

Richie's tears were obvious to everyone now, but he wasn't embarrassed. _This is what my whole life has led to,_ he thought.

Everyone formed a line to shake hands with the two of them. Virgil reached up, removed Richie's glasses and wiped away his husband's tears. "Come on, Richie; smile. I need you to smile."

Richie did as he was asked, laughing a little as Virgil helped him put his glasses back on. "I can't help it, Virg. I never thought…"

Virgil turned Richie's head and kissed him chastely. "I know, Richie. I know."

As each person walked past, they offered hugs, hand shakes, and even a few kisses. Sharon kissed Richie's cheek, then smiled at Virgil, teasing with her eyes.

Virgil held out his hand very formally.

Sharon hugged him and kissed his cheek. "You've done well, little brother," she whispered, "but don't let it go to your head."

"I'll keep his head from swelling too much," Richie said, grinning.

Sharon moved on. Many of those from the Center slapped both Richie and Virgil on the back. Bruce Wayne shook their hands, and so did Clark.

The last two people in line were Maggie and Sean Foley. As they approached, Richie slipped his hand into Virgil's.

"I'm here," whispered Virgil.

Richie's mother beamed at her son. "Oh, Richie…" She opened her arms, hope in her eyes.

Richie let go of Virgil's hand and hugged her.

"I'm so happy for you, Richie," she murmured. "I'm so happy."

Mr. Foley circled around the two of them and held out his hand to Virgil. "I don't like you," he said, "but you're making my son happy. As long as I don't have to see the two of you kiss again, I'm fine with this. Don't expect visits or anything, but I'm… glad you're both happy."

Virgil shook the hand offered him, but didn't smile. "I will always be here to protect Richie," he said, his eyes meeting Mr. Foley's.

Richie stepped back from his mother, his eyes on his father. His voice tight, he managed to say, "Thank you for coming."

"Richie…" Mr. Foley sighed. "I know we've never been close, but I do want you to be happy. And if being with this… boy… is what it takes to make you happy, then it's okay with me."

_And that's the closest I'll get to either an apology or a blessing. _Richie shook his father's proffered hand. _Now,_ Richie thought, _now just go before something happens. Let's end this on a happy note. Please don't ruin this. I want this day to be perfect. _He took his hand back. "Are you coming to the reception?"

"I can't. I have work to do. Your mother's coming, though."

Richie nodded. He felt as if little ice cubes were being dropped down the back of his shirt. "Well, thank you for coming. Virgil and I will be all right; don't worry about us." _Don't feel the need to visit or call_ is what he meant, but things were going so well Richie was determined not to mess them up now.

His father stepped back. "I'd better go now. Take care of yourselves." He turned and started to walk back up the aisle. Maggie started after him, though more slowly. She glanced over her shoulder and offered Richie a smile that seemed completely and perfectly clear of pain or guilt or fear. Richie could never remember seeing her smile like that.

_That's because she can't. She-_

_Shut up!_ Richie shouted at the younger Gear in his mind.

_Listen to me!_ Gear roared. _Something doesn't feel right. If Backpack were here, he'd say-_

_I don't want to hear it. Everything's all right now. After the reception, I'll take you home and-_

_No!_ cried sixteen-year old Richie. _No! You promised you'd help as soon as the ceremony was over._

_Keep your promise,_ Gear ordered. _Then you'll be free again to do as you please. You can make an excuse to get out of here for a few minutes, then come back._

"Oh, Richie…"

Richie blinked and looked at his father. The man was standing in the center of the aisle, gazing at the two of them. "Yes… Dad?"

"I'm glad your marriage was a happy one." He pulled a gun from inside his coat.

"No!" Bruce Wayne, on the other side of the church started to move.

"Duck!" Robert shouted from where he stood, too far away to get there in time.

_This isn't happening!_ Richie thought.

_News flash,_ Gear snapped, _it isn't, but not in the way you mean._

Richie started to move, to get between his father and Virgil.

Virgil activated his powers, obviously not caring that everyone would know.

The gun went off twice and then Virgil's powers hit the man. An instant later, one bullet whizzed by Virgil's neck, and the other buried itself in his temple. Virgil stumbled back, tripped up the stairs and fell.

_This isn't happening… _Richie was sobbing, but he didn't realize it. _It isn't happening. It isn't happening._

_No, it isn't happening!_ Gear shouted. _You're inside Brainiac! This isn't happening! You're- I'm- sixteen, not twenty-six! This isn't happening. Virgil's fine! He's just fine! I don't know where he is right now, but I do know he's alive._

Richie turned his eyes to Virgil. There was blood everywhere. Half of Virgil's face was gone. Gagging, choking, Richie turned away and threw up.

_Stop!_ sixteen-year old Richie screamed. _Stop it! It's not real! It's not real!_

Richie lifted his head, wiping his hand across his mouth. He started to stumble towards his husband. "V! V! V!"

_It's not real!_ Gear tried again.

Sixteen-year old Richie, horrified by the sight before him, moaned. _Maybe…_

_It's NOT real!_ Gear snapped, mentally slapping his twin. _Don't you even think it. If you do, Brainiac wins. Don't let him win. You owe it to Virgil to be strong._

_Okay… okay… _The young Richie swallowed while the other Richie, the one who had never lived, screamed.

Sixteen-year old Richie whispered, _It's not real. I'm still with Brainiac. None of this happened. This is just another nightmare, like the mess with Klux. This isn't real. It isn't real. It-_

Interlude: Back with Brainiac

'Are you ready to concede?' Brainiac asked. 'I will not tire of this. You were having some very interesting doubts during the vision. You even doubted your sanity. Another vision will surely break you.'

Richie longed to cry or scream. Everything was dark around him. Brainiac had finished building the android body around his own. Gear took over for a moment.

'Fuck you, bastard. I'll find a way out of anything you throw at me. And since every time Virgil gets hurt, or hurts me, it isn't really happening, there's no reason for me to grieve.' He focused his mind, determined that Brainiac wouldn't hear him. _Is there, Richie?_

_No… none at all._

'So you may as well give up,' Richie thought.

'No one escapes from Brainiac.'

A Short Conversation

And that's where it ends. Before Brainiac could send me another vision, V showed up and, with a little help from Batman, rescued me. I woke up back in the gas station with J'onn leaning over me, checking to make sure that Brainiac was really gone from my mind. And Static was right there, of course.

Here's a question that should be guaranteed to keep me up for a night or ten: how do I know I'm finally living the real life, my life? How do I know this is all real? I don't. I can't. But it feels true, and I will not do Brainiac's work for him. I will not go insane. Whatever happens, I will love Virgil until the end of my days and beyond.

You know what? I _do_ feel better. Writing this all down helped. I almost can't believe it. Maybe there is some truth to talking things out. Now, the question is, do I really want to show this to Virg?

_What, BP? Oh. You don't think it's a choice of wanting; I'm supposed to say something. You're probably right. Oh, and Backpack? Thank you. You saved me._

I'll write what he said. Maybe then V will believe that I'm not just talking to myself.

_Richie, I'm here for you. Once I found a way to enter the nightmare, I was determined to save you. I'm only glad you're all right. And this is the real world, Richie. Never doubt it._

_I'm so lucky to have you, BP._

_Get some sleep, Richie. You're going to need it….Richie?_

_Hmm?_

_No matter what happens, no matter where they send you, I will always be here for you._

_I know._


	6. Book 2: Meetings and Virgil's Thoughts

A/N: Book Two! There's a deep, dark secret about the way this is written, and it has a bearing on the eventual plot twists of the story. Who wants to start the guessing? Incidentally, did anyone figure out which Stephen King book gave me the idea for the story? Hint: it's one of his less oughtright-scary ones, and one of his "just plain creepy" ones.

Book II

Chapter One: Meetings Pg. 99

From the Diary of Virgil Hawkins (6) Pg. 113

Book II

Chapter One: Meetings

"…and he hasn't been seen in weeks," Kangor finished. "I'm telling you, man, Gear's gone." He put his size forty-two boots up on the desk and reclined in his chair. He'd named himself Kangor because of those boots- and the monstrously huge feet inside them. He hadn't wanted anyone calling him Kangaroo, so Kangor worked. Got the point across, you could say, without being too obvious.

"He's taken a permanent vacation." Shiv, standing off to Kangor's right, was grinning. He dug into the bag of chips he always seemed to have on him and crunched loudly.

Ebon folded his arms. "We can't hope for something that good," he said. "We need to make damn sure." He looked around his hideout at the other Bang Babies who had come to his emergency meeting. _Not that they had much choice,_ Ebon thought, smiling to himself. As a living shadow, Ebon crept from place to place, and could move across the entire planet in minutes. And he could carry people with him. That was how he had managed to make so many show up at his meeting. Ebon liked to think of himself as the big Bang Baby boss in Dakota, and the only Bang Babies who didn't seem to think he was the boss were Static, Gear… and Hotstreak.

_But even he came, _Ebon thought. _He had no choice. I dragged him here, and he doesn't know how to get out. Besides, he wants a chance to get at Static just like the rest of us. And if Gear's missing- for whatever reason- this might be our chance. But we have to make damn good and sure that the little brain boy won't show up at the wrong time to save the day._

Hotstreak muttered, "He can't be gone. He's worse than that rat, Foley, trailing after Hawkins. He'd never let his friend go out alone."

"Oh, and since when are you the big Gear expert?" Ebon demanded.

"I've just seen a lot of flunkies like him, that's all," Hotstreak grumbled, his eyes flashing. He wasn't bouncing a ball of flames between his hands- not yet- but he might, soon. He wasn't known for his patience. His hate of Static rivaled Ebon's. Static had been a thorn in his side for far too long. _Someday, I'll change that. And us sittin' around here listenin to rumors about one missing sidekick isn't going to help me do that._ He sighed. _Well, as long as we're stuck here anyway, there's something Ebon and the others have to know. _"I don't know if Gear's gone or not, but if he is, there goes any leverage we had with Static. He only has one major weakness, one that works all the time: he watches out for that little robo-nerd. He can't even be completely destroyed with water, like we first thought because he always finds a way out."

It was a speech for Hotstreak, who usually kept his answers to grunts or a few short words at best. But he wanted Ebon to understand their chances. _Maybe he'll decide it's hopeless until we know more and just let me go. I'll find my own way to get to Static._

"He's gotta be missing, man," Kangor argued. "Static's been seen a lot- by all of us- but Gear hasn't shown up once."

"Not since the day the Justice League showed up to save him and Static from us," said Puff, bearing her teeth. "If he isn't missing, maybe he's hurt or scared. He isn't like Static- take away all those inventions, and I bet he's nothing."

"If we only knew who he was, we'd have an edge over Static," Kangor said.

"And how are we supposed to figure out who he is when we've been trying for three years to figure out who Static is?" Ebon snapped.

"We can't!" Hotstreak had turned his hands into torches. "So let us go, Ebon. There's nothing we can do here. Either Gear's missing, or he's not. If he is, we have no way to get at Static. If he isn't, we're back where we started."

"I say when this meeting is over!" Ebon roared, hitting Hotstreak so hard he crashed into the wall. Ebon knew well that he was one of the few meta-humans Hotstreak couldn't hurt, and he took full advantage of that fact.

Hotstreak got to his feet. "Fine! Then what are we going to do?"

Ebon was pacing. "I'll tell you what we're going to do. We're going to try what Puff tried. We'll show up to attack Static all together. We'll spring the rest of our gang from jail. Then we'll wait for a good day- or night- and lure Static out to where we can destroy him. And if Gear happens to show up, too, well, there will be enough of us to take him out, too. But until then, you'll all lay low. That's an order. We want Static to get comfortable, maybe start to think that he's frightened us off. When we all show up-" Ebon rammed his hands together- "we'll crush him."

Richie met Virgil at the corner where their paths to school crossed.

Virgil assessed Richie's condition, noting the dark circles under his eyes. "You okay, Richie?" Virgil took Richie's hand.

Richie smiled at the contact, then yawned. "Very tired." He handed Virgil a floppy disk in its little case.

Virgil held the disk, staring at it. "Did you finish last night?"

Richie nodded.

"Man, no wonder you're so tired! You didn't have to hurry up and finish it! I would have waited."

They started walking. "I needed to get it off my chest, V. I feel completely husked out now."

"No offense, Richie, but that doesn't exactly sound healthy."

Richie smiled and tightened his hold on Virgil's hand. "I feel free, V-Man. I feel completely and utterly relaxed, as if all my memories, in all their stark detail, were transferred from my brain to that disk. I still remember what happened, but it doesn't stab at me anymore. And if I dreamed last night, I don't remember it. I'd say that's a definite improvement."

"Maybe that's because you didn't actually get to sleep?" Virgil raised an eyebrow.

Richie shrugged. "I managed about four hours. It'll see me through the day. By the way, you don't look exactly chipper and ready to go yourself."

Virgil slipped his arm around Richie's shoulders. "I love you, Richie," he whispered.

Richie gasped, then laughed at his own surprise. What had happened last night hadn't been a dream. "I love you, too." They walked in silence for a block or so, then Richie asked, "Do you mind showing everyone that we're together?"

Virgil was quiet for a moment. "Do you think we should show them?"

Richie smiled; he couldn't help it. He was amazed that they were even discussing this. _I never thought we would get far enough to discuss logistics_. His smile broadened. _In English, as V puts it, that means I never thought we would be talking like this. Talking about us as a couple._ "That depends."

"On what?"

"On whether we want to listen to all the teasing we're going to get."

"Rich, I hate to break this to you, but we're teased anyway. I'm the wuss and you're the teacher-pleaser."

"So, you vote not to hide our discovery?"

Virgil grinned. "Well, I've always been reckless. Let's try it."

Richie laughed and moved closer to Virgil. "Let's just hope those don't become famous last words."

Frieda rushed to the lunch table she, Daisy, Richie and Frieda shared, so excited that she hadn't even stopped to get lunch. Daisy was already there, flipping through a magazine. "Daisy! Daisy! Look, quick!" Frieda grabbed Daisy's arm and pointed towards the doors to the lunch room.

Daisy looked up, wondering what had gotten Frieda's ponytail in a knot this time. It wasn't that she didn't like Frieda, but Frieda could get excited about almost anything. But when Daisy spotted the two boys walking into the lunch room, _holding hands,_ she squealed, "Oh my God!" She was gasping for air. "Is that Virgil and Richie?" she whispered.

Frieda's eyes were big as dinner plates. "Yes! I saw them walking down the hall like that and I wanted to know if I was seeing what I'm seeing." She sat down beside Daisy. "So, am I really seeing it? Are they actually together? Like that?"

Daisy shook her head. "Either that or this is some stupid stunt."

Frieda groaned. "You don't think they would do that to us, do you? I mean, they're notorious for playing jokes."

Daisy grinned as Richie and Virgil slipped into the lunch line. She watched Richie blush at something Virgil had said. "No, I don't think it's a joke."

"Why not? They're perfect class clowns and-"

"And check out Richie's face. Look at his eyes. Look at the tiny smile he's trying to hide. Then look at Virgil. He looks like a guardian angel or something."

"Maybe Richie just had a bad night or something. You know how Virgil takes care of him. And he did have that really serious black eye yesterday. It's going away now, but it was huge, and I don't think you can get something like that from falling."

Daisy shook her head. "No, I think they're really together. But I guess we'll just have to wait and see."

Frieda grumbled, "I don't want to wait! I want to know right now!"

"Well, you'll only have to wait a few more seconds. Here they come."

Virgil swaggered toward the table, and Richie tagged along beside him, his eyes sparkling.

"I'll bet you a free soda I can make mine look just like Mt. St. Helens," Richie said to Virgil. The blond slid into the seat beside Frieda at the circular table. He poked at his mashed potatoes with a plastic fork.

Virgil sat on his other side. "Yeah, but can you make it erupt?"

"Just find me some ketchup, some baking soda and some vinegar!"

"That's cheating!" Virgil cried. "I want you to make it erupt by just using what you have right here in front of you."

Richie grinned. His cheeks had gone pink. "If you hold my hand, V, I bet I can do it." He made a crater in the center of the mashed potatoes, poured ketchup in the crater, then took Virgil's hand. "Send me a little luck, V." He closed his eyes and poked his finger in the mashed potatoes.

"Duck, Frieda!" Daisy cried, and the two disappeared under the table. Daisy didn't think there was any way Richie could make his food explode with just his finger, but, well, strange things- and usually messy things- happened around Richie Foley and Virgil Hawkins.

For an instant, nothing happened. Then, suddenly…. Ka-BOOM! Ketchup and mashed potatoes flew everywhere. Richie had fallen backwards off his stool, and he was laughing so hard tears streamed down his cheeks. His glasses had come askew, and he was gasping for breath. Virgil was equally helpless beside him.

"Mr. Foley! Mr. Hawkins!"

The two teens struggled to their feet. Neither of them wanted to sit in their chairs, which were covered with remnants of their lunches. Richie's had completely disintegrated. Virgil was snorting as he tried to stop laughing, and Richie had covered his mouth with both hands.

"Detention for both of you!" roared the lunch-room monitor.

Richie turned pale as parchment, and his laughter died in his throat. "Please, Mr. Kingsley… It was my fault, but…" He was biting his lip almost hard enough make it bleed. "Please… I'm sorry…"

"You should have thought about that before you decided to turn this lunch room into a science lab. Now, both of you go get paper towels from the bathroom and clean this mess up."

As the two walked away, Frieda asked, shaken, "Are you still so sure they're together?"

Daisy didn't answer- she just pointed. Frieda followed her gaze. Even though the two were spattered with bits of food, and were definitely sticky and gross, Virgil has his arm around the shoulders of a very… well, a very depressed Richie.

"He looks like someone just told him he's going to the gallows tomorrow," Frieda whispered, forgetting her curiosity about the love-life of her friends.

Daisy sighed. "Yeah, he does."

In the bathroom, Virgil washed his face and hands quickly. He didn't really care if he went around the rest of the day with gook drying on him if it meant that he could wipe that look of desperation and terror off Richie's face. But he knew his appearance would get him in trouble with the teachers, and they might make him leave Richie's side to go wash. Better to take care of the problem now.

Richie was just staring into the mirror. "I can't run," he was whispering. "I can't, but I want to. I don't want to go home after this…"

Virgil squirted some liquid soap into one brown palm, then went to Richie. Without a word, he took Richie's hands in his, turned on the water, and washed Richie's hands himself. "We'll get through this, Richie. I won't let him hurt you. We'll find a way out or around this. I promise. I won't ever let him hurt you again. I swear it." Virgil grabbed some paper towels, got them a little wet, and cleaned Richie's face and glasses. His boyfriend was staring into the mirror and showing absolutely no sign that he was in the world at all. "Trust me, Rich; I won't let anything happen to you. I love you too much to let anything happen."

Richie's hands were shaking. "I'm such an idiot. I should have thought…"

"I'm going to save you, Richie."

"I shouldn't have just forgotten everything like that…"

"Richie…" Virgil hugged his boyfriend from behind. "Rich, calm down. We'll-"

Richie turned to Virgil, his eyes filled with such wild fear that Virgil fell back a step. "He'll kill me, Virg. I can't do home. He'll kill me this time."

Virgil grabbed Richie's shoulders and shook him. "I won't let him!" he whispered, his face an inch from Richie's. "I won't let him, Rich. I won't. I swear it. We'll go talk to the principal right now. We'll explain that we made a terrible mistake- both of us- and then we'll explain that you can't stay after, that you'll get in trouble with your dad. He knows all about your dad, remember? Maybe you can spend your detention during school. That'll make Mr. Kingsley happy and keep you safe."

Richie took a deep breath, then another. "You're right, V." He dropped his eyes. "I'm sorry. I just lost it, didn't I?"

"With good cause, Richie." Virgil drew Richie against him and hugged him. "I love you, Richie. I won't let anything happen to you."

Richie hugged him back. "I love you, too." Then he smiled weakly. "We need to clean up that mess out there."

Virgil grabbed a fistful of paper towels. He leaned close to Richie and muttered, his lips barely moving, "Well, Static and Gear vowed to clean up Dakota."

Richie grinned, snagged some paper towels, and the two went to clean up the mess they'd created.

During eighth period in-school-suspension, Richie wrote a letter. He had been thinking about the disk he'd given Virgil that morning. There were a few things that he'd wanted to say before Virgil read the story. More than anything, he didn't want Virgil to go into the terrible story without warning. And so he wrote:

_Virg, I love you. More than anything. I'm not asking you to read this because I want you to be hurt. I'm telling you because I think I have to. I can't explain my feelings any better than that. You don't have to read the whole thing. Read as far as you can stand. If you want me to gloss over the rest, I can. It isn't hard, now that I've told it twice, once to BP and once in writing._

_V, I want you to know two things more. First, I'm not innocent anymore. I saw far too much with Brainiac, too much through the nightmares he sent me. And second, I'm not a virgin anymore. Brainiac took that from me. He raped me long before you came to save me. I never thought about saving myself for someone, but I hate Brainiac for what he did, because now I wish I could be untouched for you. I wanted you to be my first and only._

Richie considered the note, wondering if it sounded either a) desperate, which was bad, or b) sappy, which was probably worse. _If it's the first, I sound as if I need Virg to protect me- which I do, but I don't want him to know that. And if it's the second, V will wonder how "feminine" I really am. _Richie blushed.

The bell rang, signaling the end of his punishment. Sighing, Richie admitted, _But I'll have to let it stand. There isn't time to write something else. I have to get home. _Quickly, Richie folded the note and slipped it into his pocket as he stood up.

Two minuets later, he and Virgil were on their way home. They walked close together, and occasionally Virgil brushed against Richie's arm.

"So what are you doing tonight?" Virgil tried to sound casual.

"Dad'll be hone tonight, so I'll be working on a fake project for Science."

Virgil raised an eyebrow. "We don't have enough homework? You have to make some up?"

Richie didn't look at him. "Mom told him I was working on a project for Science. So, that's what I'll be doing."

Virgil groaned and moved even closer to Richie, taking his hand. "Tell me how long this has been going on, Richie. How long has he been hurting you? This isn't a new thing in your life, is it?"

"When I was eight, I asked your mom if I could live with you and your family. She thought I was just being sweet, I guess. She picked me up, hugged me, and said, 'Oh, Richie, you'll always be like my son, whether you live here or at your house.'" Richie cleared his throat. "I've always liked school, even if I didn't always get the best grades, because it meant two things: I could see you, and I could be away from _him_. And I looked forward to every chance I got to sleep at your house." Richie blushed. "Please don't take this the wrong way, V, but it wasn't just you I loved seeing. I loved how your dad would hug you or tell you to do your homework or talk to you about his day. I loved how you and Sharon fought, even; I thought that there was safety in that fighting."

Virgil was silent for a moment. He was stunned to know that Richie had figured something out that he, Virgil, had only come to realize in the last year or so. "I guess there was. We still loved each other, and knew it-" he smiled a little- "really deep down." He put his arm around Richie's shoulders. "And I don't hold it against you, Richie. Any time I can make you happy, that's cool with me."

Richie leaned into the one-armed embrace. "I love you, Virg."

"I love you, too."

They had reached the corner where Virgil turned. Richie disconnected himself with a slight effort and dug a note from his pocket. "Here," he said somewhat awkwardly. "Please read this before you read… the rest."

Virgil took the note with all solemnity, though his eyes twinkled. And when the note had disappeared, he asked, "Is this a proposal of marriage?"

Richie gasped, but he could see Virgil was trying to joke, and so he laughed weakly. "I'm only sixteen, V; much too young. I think you'll have to wait a few more years for that."

Virgil's teasing expression fell away. He drew Richie to him and whispered in his ear, "Not if I propose first."

Richie gasped again. He felt like a leaky bellows. "V, you're not- you're not… Are you?"

Virgil tightened his hold on his boyfriend. "Not a real proposal," he said. "Not one with a ring and everything. But I want us to be linked somehow. Will you let me be your partner, even as Static is Gear's? Will you trust me and come to me when you need help? Will you help me when I need it?"

Richie bit his lip and pulled back a little so he could meet Virgil's gaze. "V… do you really mean all this?"

Virgil rubbed his hand on the back of his head. He looked embarrassed, but determined to finish what he'd started. "I do, Rich. I swear I do."

"Then I promise to be your partner. I will do everything you asked. But you have to promise to come to me with your problems, and not just wait for me to seek you out."

"I promise."

Both of them glanced around, both a little shy about kissing in public. But no one was on the street. They came together, kissing quickly, chastely. When they stepped back, Richie was blushing and Virgil was rubbing the back of his head almost fast enough to start a fire.

Richie smiled, and the simple expression lit up his face. "I'll see you tomorrow?"

"Yeah."

Virgil turned and walked towards his house. Richie hurried home, knowing that if he didn't get going he would watch Virgil walking until he disappeared around the next corner three blocks down.

Richie's father wasn't home quite yet when his son came in. Richie heaved a sigh and dashed up to his room. He found a schematic for a miniature rocket launchpad that he'd drawn up a few months ago- _right before Virg and I decided I'd become a Bang Baby, in other words-_ and printed it out. Backpack was sitting on Richie's bed, watching the blond work.

_You see, BP, I have to say I've been working on the plans for a couple days and now I'm going to start on the actual launchpad. This way, he'll think I really have been working on a project for Science._

_Richie, when are you going to tell Virgil how long your father has been amusing you?_

Richie sighed. _I dodged his question, didn't I? I didn't even realize I was doing it._ Then he laughed in amazement. _You could read my mind all the way from there? Your range is expanding._

_Yes, thanks to you. And yes, you dodged his question. Again._

Richie's good cheer faded. _It's just hard to admit to your best friend that you've been hiding secrets from him for that long. Especially since we've been so honest about everything else. The only other time I kept something from him was when that old man was doling superpowers out to me like a drug. And my resolve lasted less than a day. I've kept this hidden for so long that I can't imagine my relationship with Virgil without it._

_If Virgil really loves you- and I think he does- then he will accept your confession. He may be a little angry at first, since not all humans can deal with changes immediately even if they see that those changes are for the best. But Virgil will forgive and forget. I think he will always be there for you._

_BP… If I'm going to tell one secret, should I tell the other?_

_Ask yourself instead why you wouldn't tell him._

_Because I don't want to be connected with any group like that in any way. And it's more than my father being a member. I attend the meetings. _

_Not willingly._

_I still have to go, though. And I hear the doctrine once a week. What if it starts to affect the way I think?_

_If, after each time you go the meetings, you come back and we talk about it, laugh about it a little and then forget about it, that won't happen. And it probably wouldn't happen anyway because you are stronger than that, Richie. _Richie sensed Backpack's smile. _And if you tell Virgil, you will have another person to laugh about the meetings with. Imagine the jokes Virgil might suggest. He's a genius at suggesting funny ways to look at things._

Richie's face lit up as he smiled. _You're right, BP. I shouldn't hide things from him anymore. We'll only get closer after the shock of my confessions wears off._

_I would love to have someone else in on your innermost secrets, Richie; someone who can be there when I can't. I like Virgil. I trust Virgil. He's the only person in the world I would trust with your safety._

_And coming from you, there's no higher praise than that._

Again, Backpack's smile shone in Richie's mind. _Any and all developed intelligence aside, Richie, I was programmed to stay with you, to look after you. It's a task I take up willingly every day. _Now Richie sensed that, if Backpack could, he would have been blushing. _I love you, Richie. Not as Virgil loves you, but like a brother, or maybe…_

_BP, say whatever you're thinking. I won't be offended._

_I was going to say like a father. A real father. Like Mr. Hawkins seems to love you._

Richie stood and went to the bed, sitting beside his robot. "I love you, too, BP."

Backpack beeped and turned his sensor eye to the hall. Richie cursed and went back to his desk chair. Backpack dove under the bed.

The door to Richie's room opened and Mr. Foley strode in. Richie assessed his father's mood, and decided that his father was decently relaxed. That didn't mean Richie could relax, but it meant that he might at least get through this interview without any new bruises.

He rose respectfully to greet his father. "Hi, Dad. How as work?"

"Not bad. We've had a whole new project dumped in our laps, and it's supposed to be done months before we could conceivably do a decent job, but your old man's dealt with much worse things in his lifetime." He clapped Richie on the shoulder. "Studying?"

"Actually, I finally finished the blueprint for the launchpad I'm going to build. The rocket blueprint's done, so-"

"Remember, Richie, only houses and other buildings have blueprints, so your rocket has to have a design."

Richie blushed a little. He knew that- his father always said it, anyway- but correcting his son in building-terms always put his father in a better mood if, that was, the older man was already in a good mood. "Thanks, Dad. I forgot."

"That's all right, Richie; I know you aren't going to be a construction worker. You're going to be a astronaut or a doctor or something amazing like that." His father fairly beamed at him.

Richie smiled, then turned the conversation to other matters. He liked the praise- could almost forget his father's harsh words and fists when the man spoke that way to him- but he didn't want his father thinking he was getting a big head. That would turn his mood in an instant. "Do you want to look at the blueprint for the launchpad and check it for me? Just in case I've made a mistake or something?"

"Maybe later. We have a meeting tonight, don't forget, and we need to eat dinner before that."

"Okay," said Richie easily. "Are we eating now?"

"In about twenty minutes. What are you going to do until then?"

"I think I'll start work on my rocket… unless I can help you?"

Sean Foley shook his head. "I'm going to kick back a little." He ruffled Richie's hair. "Get your work done." He headed for the door. "And don't forget to wash before dinner. We don't need any grease-stains on the tablecloth."

"I won't forget to wash." Richie watched his father leave the room. He listened to him walk downstairs. Only then did Richie return to his chair. Backpack came out from under the bed and positioned himself at Richie's ankle. Richie reached down and touched him. It was strange, but touching Backpack was a little like petting a dog: Richie found it therapeutic.

Richie tied his white tie and looked at his reflection. The suit hung well on him- a gift from his father when he turned sixteen- and showed off his narrow form to good advantage. The baggy clothes he usually wore hid any and all bruises and had the added advantage of not rubbing incessantly against his newest injuries. The suit hid nothing: his black eye stood out and the low collar of the suit-coat didn't hide the bruise on his neck. _It doesn't matter,_ Richie thought. _All I have to say- with Dad's prompting if I forget- is that a bunch of black boys beat me up. That will get everyone off my back. And I might earn a shy, sympathetic smile from one of the brainwashed girls there._

It annoyed his father to no end that Richie had to attend a public school and mix with "people like that". But the Foleys weren't rich enough to be able to send Richie to a private school, so he stayed at Dakota Union High. _And I'm lucky to be there. If I hadn't met Virg and learned for myself that black people are just like white people in al the ways that matter, I'd likely be as brainwashed as the daughters of the rich men._

Richie resisted the urge to scowl. _If nothing else, once you're at one of the meetings, you're considered to be equal to everyone else there. "We have to unite under one banner, brothers and sisters. We must unite, without barriers between classes, or we will never be able to quell the usurpers." _That was the sort of thing Richie heard each week. Richie liked to think that they sounded like medieval, ignorant villagers. _What's next? Torches and pitchforks? _But he knew that, in centuries past, that's exactly what the meetings had often led to. Today, things had to be done differently. For one thing, the police didn't approve of violence from anyone.

Richie forced himself not to smile. _Plus, there aren't any pitchforks here._ He glanced at the back of his father's head. His father was driving their beat-up old car and his mother sat beside him, her hands folded demurely in her lap. Her head was bent like a person who grieves or prays.

_Maybe she's praying the meeting hall will have exploded by the time we get there. I know that's what I'm praying for._

Richie sometimes wondered what God thought of his prayers. They were almost always for things to be missing, or burned down, or broken. _In fact, I think the only time I pray for anything "good" is when I pray that V and I will make it through each battle. Well, even if I do pray only for terrible things, I can say this much to God: Thank you, thank you, thank you for Virgil. I know I don't deserve him- my prayers show that much- but I want You to know that I'm grateful for the chance to be with V._

"… in the back, Richie?"

Richie blinked. His father had been speaking to him. _Great. Now I'm going to get it. _"I'm sorry, Dad; I was meditating on the lesson from last week and wasn't listening." He hoped he looked contrite and convincing.

Sean Foley was in an exceptional mood. "And what have you decided?"

"That I need to study our ways devoutly or I might fall into temptation." _Like kissing Virgil. If Dad knew about that, the Children Protection Services would have to scrape me off the floor._

His father smiled. "That's true. What I said is, will you help me set up the supper tables in the back tonight?"

"Sure."

"Good."

Richie longed to sigh. _I forgot the dinner tonight. We'll be here until ten or eleven._ He thought of all the doctrine that would fly around his head before the night was over. _I'm going to need a nice long 'counseling session' with Backpack when this is all over. _He resolved to make up at least a half-dozen good jokes about the whole stupid gathering before he got home.

In the parking lot, Richie climbed out of the backseat and smoothed his suit down.

"Sean! Maggie!" A short, thin man in a grey suit rushed towards them, his arm outstretched. "And it's so good to see you, Richard!"

Sean shook the man's hand. "Hello, George. How's the missus?"

"Oh, she's suffering from a bit of a cold. So our little Angela made the casserole." He winked. "I'm lucky to have such a talented daughter."

Sean slung his arm around Richie and drew him close. "Well, my boy's been building a rocket for Science. And not from one of those kits, either. He's made it up from scratch."

The greetings continued for ten or more minutes, but then a bell rang and everyone shuffled inside and took their seats.

Richie endured the meeting by pretending to take notes. He wrote on two pages: one held notes about the meeting (mostly things Richie copied and expanded from the program) and the other held jokes and cartoons and a few proposals.

_V, will you marry me?- Way too blunt._

_Hey, what do you get when you mix a white robe with a black soul? A dirty-grey bastard. – Okay, that wasn't funny. I'll try again later._

The next was a cartoon of two superheroes- Static and Gear, in fact- scaring a whole gaggle of white-robed figures. Speech-bubbles over their heads said things like _Zap! Pow!_ and _Get 'em, BP!_ That one made Richie grin inside himself like a cat.

And, after that: _I know we haven't been together for a long time, Virg, but I want you to know how much you mean to me. We're only sixteen, but will you marry me when we're eighteen? I'd be the luckiest person in the world if you said yes._

A shadow fell over his writing, and Richie looked up, a slightly-goofy smile falling off his face as he met his father's gaze. He opened his mouth to explain that… well, that _something_, but his father seized the page before he could get anything out. Richie watched the man's face turn purple. The blond boy closed his eyes and took a deep breath. _For a supergenius, Richie, you're really a moron, you know that?_

From the diary of Virgil Hawkins/Static Shock

Dear Diary,June 3, 2003

It's a good thing I didn't have any homework tonight. There's no way I would have been able to concentrate. I don't know what it's like to be in shock, and I'm probably overreacting. I can still breathe and move, after all. But I can't even begin to think about what I've read. And this isn't like when I'm trying to start a paper for English. There aren't facts jumping around in my head. There's nothing.

But I need to write about this. I need to get it out before I see Richie, and it's too late to go out as Static. Besides, I don't think even cruising around would help me right now. I need to get this out.

Okay, wait a minute… I just looked at the note Richie wrote me. I have to admit that when I read it before starting in on the… stuff on the disk, I had no idea what Richie was talking about. I get it now.

Richie told me I didn't have to read the whole thing on the disk, and of course I didn't understand. I thought Richie meant it was long, or that Richie was embarrassed by it somehow. I'm glad I read it, though. He needs me to know everything so I can help him. That's why I had to read it all.

But even if I didn't understand that first part, I felt a little sick when Richie told me "I'm not innocent anymore". And I've never known anyone that was raped. I don't know how to help Richie, or what I can do for him. I want to talk to Dad about it, and maybe to Sharon, even, since she's the psychology major, but I wouldn't know where to begin. And what if Richie doesn't want anyone to know? I bet his father doesn't know. Maybe I'm the only person he's told.

I don't know what the second thing was he wanted to tell me. Did he want to tell me that he hates Brainiac? That would be bad. Richie's never hated anyone, as far as I know, probably not even his father. So if Brainiac has made Richie hate, he's stolen something very important from Richie, and, like my boyfriend's virginity, it's something Richie will never get back.

Or maybe that isn't what he meant to tell me. I've grown up with the idea of saving myself for the person I love, but I never thought about it before. I'm only sixteen. I can't deny we've talked about it in the locker room after P.E., but I've never really thought about sex. Richie has… but that might be Brainiac's fault, too. I need to remember to talk to Richie tomorrow about this. If I don't figure anything else out tonight, I know this: I still love Richie, and no matter what Brainiac has done to him, I will never stop.

I read a book once where the narrator talked about his words coming one at a time, then in little squirts of phrasing, then whole sentences, then a torrent. That's what this is like. Suddenly, I want to write a hundred things about the story/ramble/confession Richie gave me. But, unlike that author, I don't feel like I can actually write anything. Everything I want to write is right here on this disk. The urge to give the disk to Pops, and also a copy to Sharon, and maybe even a copy to the Justice League is almost overwhelming. I don't know if they can help, but I'm still stuck with what I figured out before: I love Richie, and will always love Richie. But now I'm stuck with this question: is that enough, or does Richie need something more from me? If this was a comic book, I'd just sail in, scoop him up and fly away into the sunset. But there's always something beyond the sunset. And somehow I don't think Pops would approve of my kidnapping Richie. Even if Richie's parents- well, his father- is abusive, Richie is their son, and so I guess they have a right to say where he goes. Not a complete and total authority or the Children Protection Services couldn't help Richie, but something like that.

Damn. I just looked over the last paragraph I wrote, and it makes little or no sense. I guess I'm more wound up than I thought. But, wound up or not, the questions keep coming. I've got to help Richie, but how? What can I do for him? Should I tell anyone about what he's suffering through? Not that I could explain the whole Brainiac-induced nightmares to Pops because that would expose Richie's identity and mine.

Okay. Deep breath, Virgil. You've just figured something out. You can't tell Pops about Brainiac, but you can tell him about Richie's dad because _that's_ not a secret. The school knows, so it's definitely not a secret. Half of Dakota probably knows by now. You can't tell me that teachers and principals don't take their problems home and share them with their families.

I can tell Pops about Richie's dad, at least. Maybe, with one less thing on my chest, I'll feel better. But… It's three o'clock in the morning. I don't think Pops would appreciate me waking him up. I'll have to wait until morning- well, later this morning. And it's going to be a long few hours. I can't sleep.

I wish I could see Richie right now. I want to hug him. The urge to do that is so strong it's almost a physical ache.

**Sailor Vegeta: Thank you for the compliment. As you can see, here's the next bit. The only problem with my fics is they can't seem to stay in the "small" category, or even the "medium" category. I know this doesn't qualify as a novel yet, but I think we'll get there eventually. At least I _think _the plot's going to last that long.**

**Dimitri Aidan: I agree with you about endings, so I'll make the same offer to you that Stephen King made to his readers of the Dark Tower series: if you don't want to read the ending, you're completely free (and even encouraged) to leave it be. **

**I was really getting a kick out of "Richie" Richie and Gear ganging up on "not quite" Richie. Someday (not necessarily in this story) I want to see the two heroes (Static and Gear) have a sit-down and a good talking-to with their secret identities. It would just be fun to read!**

**Actually, just for the record, there was a cartoon series called "Batman and Robin" where Batman was wrong _once_. He admitted as much to Dick Grayson at the end of the episode. Maybe the world won't end until that's common knowledge- so don't spread it around!**

**tp96: I'm glad being confused didn't put you off too much. Were there any _really_ confusing parts that frustrated you? Please tell me; this is still a work in progress.**

**Tristripe: I'm glad you feel (in a metaphorical sense, of course!) like Richie. That means I'm doing my job.**

**My emails have gotten mixed up, and I'm not sure if I replied to everyone. If I didn't, please forgive me! Just keep telling yourself: "She's really technologically impaired" and all will be well.**


	7. Book Two: Chapter Two: In the Middle of ...

A/N: **Thank you to jenn.** Many many thank yous. It's due to her that I'm reposing this chapter. I fixed the little line between Richie and the KKK member. You were right, and that line made me uncomfortable when I first wrote it. I just didn't know what was wrong with it. But I'm keeping Richie's little doodles and love confessions for two reasons. First, Richie isn't acting completely like himself; you'll see why soon enough. Second, even super geniuses fall in love and lose their common sense. About Virgil confessing his love to Richie, and speaking marriage: Virgil is so desperate to make Richie happy that he isn't thinking practically, or even remembering what Richie's been through. All Virgil wants to do is keep Richie close. Keep in mind that these two are only sixteen. Yes, they've been through so much, but they're still only sixteen.

Chapter Two: In the Middle of the Night

"Virgil?"

The teen jumped and dropped his pen. Instantly, he slammed the diary shut and looked up almost guiltily as his father came into the room. "Uh… Hi, Pops. What brings you here at this time of morning? Was I making noise?"

Robert Hawkins closed the door behind him and came to sit on Virgil's bed. "I was coming back from the bathroom and saw your light on. Want to talk?" He nodded towards the closed diary, then raised an eyebrow at his son.

"Well, um… Don't you have to work in the morning?"

"Yes, but you also have to go to school. If you can go without a night's sleep, so can I. Actually, it's closer to two nights without sleep for you isn't it?"

Virgil groaned. "I slept a little last nigh…."

"But not much."

"No, not much. Pops… if I tell you something, will you promise not to fly off the handle?" Virgil was staring at the floor and he'd taken the diary in his arms, hugging it against his chest almost like a shield.

Robert considered telling Virgil that he was always willing to listen, but decided this wasn't the time for anything more or less than a straight answer. "I promise."

Virgil smiled a little apologetically. "Okay… Well, um, you know that Richie and his father don't get along all that well, right?"

Robert kept the irony from his voice. "Yes, Virgil. Richie's father was honestly repentant when we found Richie unharmed that time he ran away. But he is a man who will never change easily."

"Yeah, well, it's worse than you think," Virgil almost snapped.

Robert took no offense. Virgil was obviously struggling with something bigger than he could deal with.

"Richie's dad doesn't just hate us, or 'our kind'. He hates Richie, too. He's been hitting Richie. I don't' know for how long, but it's been for a while, I think. I saw Richie's black eye yesterday at school, and the bruise on his neck. I could see his father's knuckle-marks on his neck!" Virgil had gotten up and was pacing now. "The teachers noticed, and the principal called Richie into his office. I think these aren't the first bruises that have been noticed, because kids with bruises aren't exactly uncommon at school. And if they saw the bruises, I don't know why I didn't. I mean, Richie's slept over here, for crying out loud. I should have seen something."

He groaned and returned to his chair, putting his head in his hands. "Sorry, Pops. I was almost shouting, wasn't I?"

"Almost. But it doesn't bother me. I've heard worse."

Virgil smiled a little. "I guess you do." He sighed and sat back in his chair, looking at his father. "The principal got Richie to admit that it was his father who was hitting him. So now Children Protective Services-"

"-Child Protection Services-"

"-yeah them. Well, they're going to come and take Richie away from his family. Which I guess is good. His father hitting him isn't. But you've told me the bad side of foster care, and…" Virgil shivered. Until he had spoken the words, he hadn't even thought of what might happen to Richie in foster care. "I don't want Richie to leave Dakota. I don't want him to be stuck somewhere where he doesn't know anybody. He needs me now more than ever. I want to help him, but I can't. I wish I was part of the whole foster care thing so I could-" he laughed brokenly- "adopt him. I want Richie to be all right. I want…"

His father was at his side then, and drawing him to his feet. Virgil wrapped his arms around his father's waist at once and leaned against him. He half-expected he would burst into tears, but it didn't happen. Instead, he suddenly felt exhausted. He groaned and hugged his father tighter.

Robert rocked him slightly, rubbing his back. "Virgil, nothing's set in stone. We can still help Richie; keep him from having to leave Dakota. I do have a few connections, and I promise I won't rest until we're sure Richie will be taken care of by someone that both he and we trust."

Virgil raised his head. "Really, Pops? Do you mean it?"

Robert nodded. "We'll look after Richie. Nothing will happen to him."

Virgil hugged him again. "Thanks, Pops. That really helps. I feel a lot better now. I can help Richie with the emotional stuff-" he blushed- "but the physical stuff was a little out of my league."

Robert smiled gently. "Richie's lucky to have you. And I want you to know that I'm very proud of you."

"I know, Pops." Virgil stepped back.

Robert reached out and touched Virgil's shoulder. "Also, son, keep in mind that you don't have to help Richie without getting help yourself. Sharon and I are here for both of you. Promise me you won't forget that."

"I promise, Pops." Virgil yawned. "I think all that lack of sleep is catching up with me."

Robert shook his head. "Go directly to bed. Do not pass go. Do not collect two hundred dollars. Hear me?"

Virgil yawned once more. "Yes, sir." He started towards his bed.

Robert left the room.

Virgil climbed into bed, not even bothering to undress. He was that tired. He closed his eyes.

His Shock Vox, hidden safely under his pillow, buzzed to life. But instead of a voice coming from the walkie-talkie, it only issued a series of high beeps.

Virgil groaned and dug the Vox from under his pillow. The thing was probably having a problem or something. He was about to turn it off when he suddenly heard a rough, mechanical voice speaking… or at least trying to speak.

"V… Vir…. gil… R… Rich…ie…. hel….p Richie…."

Virgil sat up, his exhaustion forgotten. "Who is this?"

"B….. B….. Ba…k….p….."

"No way," Virgil whispered, not even realizing that he was speaking out loud. "Richie's robot can't talk."

"mmm Backp…p…pppp" A series of high clicks, then a loud beep.

Virgil recognized that beep, if nothing else. "Where are you?" then he shook his head. The thing- he wasn't convinced, even then, that it was Backpack that had contacted him- couldn't speak well. Besides, it would be easy enough to trace the Vox's signal.

But the thing was trying to speak anyway. "Ga…gasssss"

"The gas station. I'll be there."

"Sta… Stattttti….c"

Virgil thought he understood. "Static's coming. Stay put." He closed the connection and jumped up, ready to grab his costume and go. But then his eyes fell on the door to the hall. His pops might come back in to check on him. Virgil sighed, grabbed a piece of paper, and wrote: _Richie called. He needs to talk. I promise we won't get into any trouble. I'll call you as soon as I can. Love, Virgil_

It wouldn't make his pops happy, but at least he would have an idea of why his son had left, even if he didn't know where to find him. Virgil grunted. No use for it. He put the note on his pillow, changed into his Static costume, and flew out his window, closing it behind him.

The council of elders met in the small room in the back of the meeting hall. For the occasion, they had donned their white robes and sat in a semicircle in front of the interrogation chair. Sean Foley, standing in the role of accuser, sat on a chair at to the right and in front of the interrogation chair. He was seated at right angles to the semicircle so that he could speak to the council of elders and to the accused. A man stood behind the interrogation chair. In one hand, he held a coiled, leather belt.

Richie Foley sat in the interrogation chair. His lip had been split, and he held his sprained wrist in his right hand. The blue eyes behind his glasses flashed. Having been caught, he was determined not to show any fear or subservience.

"State your name for the Council," said the elder directly in front of Richie.

"Richard Osgood." He had no last name, and would have none until he was absolved of his crime.

"Do you know why you are here?"

Richie didn't answer.

"Do you know why you are here?" The man's voice grew no harsher, but the man behind the chair rested a hand on Richie's shoulder in warning.

Richie noted the warning. _Strike one._ "I have a different opinion of what is wrong than you do, so, no; I don't know why I'm here."

"Do you know our laws?"

"Fluently."

"Then judge your behavior not by your own changeable mind but by our eternal doctrine."

"I drew a cartoon that made fun of you. Of all your kind."

"And?"

"I wrote jokes about your kind."

"And?"

"I am in love with an African-American."

The hand on his shoulder tightened.

_Strike two,_ Richie thought.

"I am in love with an African-American male." He would not call Virgil a boy. In most circles, that word was not an insult. Here, it was as bad as nigger in its connotations. "That much you can read for yourselves on the paper on the desk before you."

"How long have you known this boy?"

"In which sense?" It was a necessary question, but Richie knew he might be punished for it nevertheless. _Still, I won't give them more than they need to know._ Richie was aware, in a vague way, that Gear had taken over, and for that he was grateful. Because this was a battle, just like the ones he fought at Static's side. _Except Static isn't here. It's just me and a bunch of brainwashed monsters. At least most of the Bang Babies know why they're doing something against the law, and when._

"In a romantic sense."

"Two days."

"In the Biblical sense."

"Never."

"In an acquaintance sense."

_I'm going to get it for this, if not for the others. _"Almost nine years."

"Mr. Foley, how long have you known about this boy?"

"Two years."

"Did you tell Richard he could not socialize with this boy?"

"Yes."

"Were you firm from the beginning?"

"Yes."

"I object." Richie's voice was flat, as if he were on a debate team instead of at his own trial. "I submit that Mr. Foley did not overtly state his dislike of this particular boy until two days after he met him."

"But I did-"

"Mr. Foley, be silent. Did Mr. Foley tell you that you were not to socialize with blacks before you brought this boy home?"

"Yes."

"Why did you bring the boy home, then?"

"I didn't think my f- Mr. Foley was going to be home. He was supposed to be working the late shift."

_Too close, Richie; too close,_ Gear thought. _He isn't your father right now._

_I wish he wasn't my father ever._

_Be strong, and be careful what you say._

"So you planned to bring the boy into your house against Mr. Foley's wishes."

"Yes."

"Had you done so before?"

"Never."

"Why?"

"Because I was afraid of Mr. Foley."

"How would he punish you?"

"In the tradition of your people."

_I shouldn't tell them about the abuse, right? _Richie asked.

_No. _Gear's mental voice was firm. _It would be your word against his, and they will believe him. Then you would be accused of lying about an upstanding member of the community._

_And that, ladies and germs, is an excellent way to get beaten._

"Why do you separate yourself from us?" the same elder asked. Richie wondered idly if any of the others were going to speak. And he wondered when his father would get to act in the role of accuser.

"Because I am not one of you. I belong to myself and to the young man I love."

"You are his slave?"

"In the Bible it states that-"

"Do not quote the Holy Bible! You pollute it with your filth!"

Richie waited for the hand to tighten once more on his shoulder, followed by the order to stand, take off his shirt and face his punishment like a man. It didn't happen.

"I am not his slave. He belongs to me and I belong to him."

"Is that fact or your belief?"

Richie suppressed a sigh. "My belief." He was afraid, yes, but exhausted, too. After all, he hadn't slept well the night before, and the terrible strain of the day's events had claimed much of his strength. _And to think, I was worried about Dad yelling at me because I got stuck in detention._

"Mr. Foley, tell us about this boy."

"His name is Virgil Hawkins. He's Richard's age. They are in the same classes at school. He listens to rap and hip hop and dresses like a hood."

"Did you know that your son loved him until tonight?"

"No."

"Did you know your son was still spending time with him before tonight?"

"No."

"What do you wish us to do?"

"I want what is best for my son."

_Eat shit! _Richie thought. Gear kept the blond's mouth shut.

"I wish him to be treated at one of our facilities. His behavior is too much for me to handle. I cannot be there to watch him twenty-four hours a day, which is clearly what he needs."

"Perhaps that will happen. But first, we must determine if Richard is repentant." A pause, then the elder continued, "Richard, answer these questions without hesitation or you will be punished."

The elder to Richie's far left spoke. "Are you Mr. Foley's biological son?"

"Yes."

The elder immediately to the first one's right (as Richie looked at them) asked, "How long have you been attending these meetings?"

"Almost nine years."

On to the next elder. This would continue until each had asked a question. "Have you studied the literature?"

"Yes."

"Have you passed the test for the first rite of manhood?"

"Yes." _You know I have- why are you bothering to ask? Yes, I passed it. I was shamed, but I passed it. I had no choice _but_ to pass it._

The chief elder- the one who had been speaking most of the time- declined the opportunity to ask a question. He would pass judgment on Richie.

The next elder spoke. "Will you repent of loving this boy?"

"Never."

"Will you undergo purification?"

"Not willingly."

"Will you help us punish this boy?"

"Never." _Virgil! V! I won't let them-_

_Be quiet,_ said Gear, his voice fell, hard and dangerous. _They won't hurt Virgil. I swear it. Keep calm._

"Will you see this boy again?"

"Every chance I get."

_I wish I could lie, say I've repented and just let them think they're brainwashing me._

_You can't, _Gear answered. _The time for that camouflage is past. If you tried, the words would get stuck in your throat and they would know you lied._

_In other words,_ Richie thought, _I'm too old to lie to them._

The chief elder stood. "I will meditate on these questions and answers. Mr. Foley, Vernon, take Richard to the holding room. For now, give him but ten lashes." So saying, he marched from the room. The other robed figures followed.

Richie, who had been hit with a belt many times before this, knew he could endure the pain. But he hated himself, because he knew he would probably cry out. _Forget that; I'm sure I'll scream. I wish my body was as strong as my mind._

Gear wasn't afraid of pain. _We'll get through this. I'll help you._

Backpack wondered if a computer could be impatient. _I want to see Richie. I want Richie to be all right. He's been gone for too long. And even if his father was in a good mood when they left the house doesn't mean he's in a good mood now._

_Yes, I'm impatient. I could have gone to the meeting hall alone, but I'll almost surely need backup. _The robot shuffled over to the computer Richie had built from scratch. Quickly, he opened a typing program and plugged himself in. _Now, when I want to project my words, they'll show up on the screen. Trying to speak takes too long. If I'd had longer to develop some speech technology- _But he hadn't. The little box that allowed him to speak had been rapidly put together using spare parts and following a partially-finished diagram Richie had drawn up. Backpack had started to get worried as eleven o'clock gave way to midnight. Richie was never this late. And, unable to connect to his boy's thoughts, the robot had decided to contact the only other person he trusted.

_Computers shouldn't forget anything, but it has always been so easy to just 'talk' to Richie without making a sound. I need to explain some things to Virgil before we go, and beeping just won't cut it. _Backpack felt his mental lips- ones that he always imagined looked like Richie's- quirking up in a smile. As his thoughts became more advanced, he found himself picking up little sayings from the world around him. _Just won't cut it_ was one that Richie thought often.

Backpack turned his sensor-eye towards the gas station door just before it opened. He watched Static walk in, his eyes moving everywhere and his hands crackling with energy. _He's being cautious, not trusting to just what he heard. That characteristic is one reason Richie trusts him._

Backpack beeped, drawing Static's attention. The superhero approached.

"I'm not going to ask a lot of pointless questions because I can see it's you now." He looked at the connection between the robot and the computer. "But what's that for?"

Backpack transmitted his thoughts over the link. They popped up on the screen.

"It's too hard for me to talk. I was using a very rudimentary voice synthesizer when I called you, but this is much faster."

Static frowned, then nodded. "Tell me what's wrong." He had taken a seat in front of the computer. His eyes moved from the screen to Backpack then back.

"Richie's father is a member of the KKK. He takes Richie-"

"Whoa! Wait! How long has he…? I didn't even know they worked here in Dakota!"

"Did you read the document Richie wrote?"

"Yes, I…"

Backpack could almost see the connection forming in Virgil's mind. "That's why her name was Klux… and why those guys who attacked" he grimaced "us were wearing white robes. Brainiac took what Richie was most afraid of and tormented him with it."

"Yes." Backpack waited to see if Virgil had other questions.

"Go on," the teen murmured, his eyes fixed on the computer screen. "I won't interrupt."

_Part of your nature is to interrupt, Virgil. I won't hold it against you._ "Richie and his mother attend every meeting because Richie's father does. The meetings are like being in school: lessons are taught, the 'students' have to write papers, and once a month each student has to give a speech on a particular topic. Richie's last speech was about how Rosa Parks should have been lynched instead of tolerated." Backpack watched Static's hands ball into fists. "Richie hated it, and the two of us spent a good few hours making fun of the speech afterwards so Richie could relax about it, then forget about it. We make jokes about most of the meetings."

"What did Richie do before you came along?" Static asked.

"He drew cartoons. He wrote disks and disks full of angry words. He imagined you coming and blowing up the meeting hall. It was hard for him."

Static opened his mouth but Backpack 'said' quickly, "He didn't tell you because he was afraid you would hate him, and because he was afraid the meetings would start to influence his thinking. He didn't want to become a racist; he fought against it all the time, sometimes even in his dreams. But he didn't want to ever lose your friendship, so he kept the meetings to himself, just as he kept the abuse to himself. And before you get angry at him, realize that Richie was going to tell you about both the length of the abuse and about the meetings. He and I talked about it today, before he left for the meeting. He decided that he wanted you to know everything so that the two of you could be as close as possible. He loves you, and hated lying to you. Please don't be angry with him. This isn't the time."

Static took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. "I'm not angry, just shocked. I didn't know his father's hatred had such deep roots. I guess it's true that hatred that strong feeds on itself."

"Who told you that?" Backpack was interested. It sounded like something Richie might have said, at least Richie as he was now: independent, strong and determined to succeed.

"My pops."

"Richie says he is a very intelligent and loving man."

"Yeah, I guess he is."

Backpack turned back to the matter at hand. "Tonight, Richie went with his parents to the meeting hall. It was going to be a long meeting, because this week is the week of the monthly community supper, but Richie should have been back by eleven at the latest. I started to get worried when Richie wasn't home at midnight and came down here to see if there was any way I could reach you. I want to find Richie, and I need your help." Backpack paused. "And I know I can trust you. You love Richie as much as I do."

Static paled slightly. "Backpack… do you love Richie? Like love love?"

"Not in a romantic sense. I see Richie as a cross between my friend, my brother and my son."

Static nodded, obviously trying to hide how relieved he was.

"Richie has feelings only for you," Backpack 'said'.

Static stood. "It's too bad I can't connect to you like Richie does."

"Take the remote control. It's easy enough to figure out. I can't talk to you, but you can issue silent commands through it." Backpack disconnected himself from the computer and scuttled under the desk. He came out a moment later with the remote.

In spite of himself, Static laughed. "He'll never win any awards for organizational skills." He slipped the remote into the holster beside his Shock Vox. "Should we take Richie's costume?"

Backpack moved his sensor-eye up and down in a gesture Virgil took to mean _It can't hurt._ He collected Richie's costume; Backpack rolled it up impossibly small and stored it inside himself.

"Okay," said Static, flipping out his saucer. "Lead the way."

They had stripped Richie to the waist. His wrists were tied together, and the end of the rope was threaded through a ring high on the wall. _These are men who know and enjoy what they're doing, _Richie thought. He wondered how many beatings were administered each year. _Enough so that everyone knows his place. The council knew their roles, and so did the guy standing behind me._

"Richard Osgood, are you ready to face your punishment?"

_Up yours _and _Kiss my ass_ weren't the right things to say, but they still flitted through Richie's mind. And even if he wasn't ready- would never be ready- he wouldn't let them think he was afraid. "Yes."

The first strike came with no more warning, and Richie flinched. A grunt, made of surprise as well as pain, escaped his lips. _I'm a moron. I shouldn't have been drawing and writing. But I've gotten away with it before. More fool me for thinking I would always be able to hide what I believe. Eventually the odds had to tip in the KKK's favor._

The second blow forced all the air from Richie's lungs in a loud hiss. The third, fourth and fifth cut at his shoulders, but Richie was able to keep his pain to himself.

The sixth struck him on the back of the neck, and Richie cried out.

There was a pause. Richie, his legs weak, hung in his bonds, his head down, his heart slamming against his ribs.

Then the seventh blow fell, and Richie arched up as a scream was torn from his throat. That wasn't leather that had touched his skin, but the rip of the metal buckle.

The eighth and ninth blows fell in quick succession and now Richie was crying hard enough to blur his vision. He kept twisting from side to side, trying to escape the pain.

The tenth blow fell and Richie screamed again. But he had been counting the blows, and he felt fresh tears, these of relief instead of pain, filling his eyes.

Then another blow fell, and Richie cried out in shock and agony. _But… but I counted ten! I did! Didn't I?_

As the buckle cut at his back, making stripes of red appear, Richie stopped counting and gave himself over to despair. _Maybe they decided this would be my punishment. They're going to kill me._

Talon circled twice over the plain, brick building, barely flexing her wings. Her sensitive ears had picked up the distinct sound of screams coming from inside.

After the meeting with Ebon, each member of his gang had sought out a place to wait. Some of them hoped Ebon would give the go-ahead soon. Others liked being about to relax without worrying about carrying out Ebon's latest scheme. Talon was one of these, but she hated sitting still. Ebon had ordered all of them to stay out of sight, and so Talon decided she would stretch her wings at night. And she was no fool. Static patrolled certain areas more often than others, and he usually wasn't out at three or four A.M. If she had to travel halfway across town with her wings hidden under a big, long coat, and she was only able to fly for two or three hours, so be it.

_Better that than lose my mind from boredom._

She flew down to the roof the building. Screams had never attracted her; hearing someone suffering didn't excite her like it did Shiv. But a very small part of her- the part that thought of herself as Teresa Munoz, the part that thought of herself as still human, wanted to help whoever was suffering.

_Are you trippin', girl? Whoever it is either deserves it or is screaming in pleasure. Whichever it is, it's none of your business. Besides, if you go in there to investigate, Ebon will clip your wings and you'll be stranded._

A sound reached her sensitive ears then, and Talon immediately slipped into a nearby shadow. She searched the sky, her sharp eyes narrowed. When she spotted the source of the sound, she was doubly glad she'd found a good hiding place.

Static cruised over the rooftops. Talon stared at him. His costume was different… No. It was what he wore over his costume, on his back… Was that the little robot-thing Gear usually carried? Talon nodded to herself. Yes, it surely was. What was Static doing with it? And where was Gear?

_I think Shiv and Kangor are right. Looks like Gear's completely out of the picture. Why else would Static be carrying his little robot-thing? He must have decided that Gear isn't coming back and wants to use the technology. _

But Carmen Munoz was a wise woman, and Teresa's mama hadn't raised no fools. _Maybe Gear's the one in the building. Maybe he's been trapped in there all this time._ She shook her head as she watched Static fly around the building, scouting it out. Apparently he didn't hear the screaming. Well, so his ears weren't quite as good as hers. _No, he can't have been here all this time. Static has been fighting us just like always. If Gear was missing, Static wouldn't waste time on us._

Static had returned to the front of the building. He seemed to be considering something. The robot-thing on his back beeped shrilly and he glanced over his shoulder at it.

_I might be able to get the drop on him. In fact, I probably could. _But Ebon had said to wait, so she waited.

Static turned back to the building. He floated to the ground, then ran up the front steps, taking them two at a time. Talon leaned over the edge of the roof and watched the superhero use his powers to unlock the door. He disappeared inside, the door swinging shut behind him.

Talon considered leaving- she didn't want Static to catch her. But she was curious about what was going on inside the building. Maybe Static knew the person inside who was being hurt. And even if he didn't, maybe he'd been told that someone was being hurt. (None of Ebon's gang knew how Static and Gear knew where they were needed; they just showed up at the worst times.)

_I think I'll just wait here for a bit. It's either that or go back, and I don't want to fly away if Static's going to just come soaring out of there. Can't let him see me. _Talon ruffled her feathers, arranged her ochre-on-orange wings around her like a blanket, and set herself to wait.

Backpack could hear Richie screaming, but he couldn't make Virgil understand what he was hearing. He also detected the meta-human hiding nearby, knew her to be Talon, but didn't warn Virgil. Again, he wouldn't have been able to explain what he was trying to warn the teen about. _And besides, I don't care about her. She isn't doing anything; she isn't attacking, at any rate. She's just hiding. Richie needs us._

Static made a complete circuit of the building. Backpack decided that, yes, robots, or at least _he_, could become impatient. He beeped shrilly, hoping to alert Virgil. At last Virgil headed for the front door. _We're coming, Richie_, Backpack thought._ Hold on._

When the door opened, Static was confronted by a hallway so wide it was almost a foyer. Doors opened off of the marble-floored corridor at irregular intervals. Each was lit from above by a small, artfully disguised light bulb. Static registered all this without really acknowledging it. His attention was taken up by the sound of voices speaking behind one of the closed doors.

He started to move in that direction, but Backpack tapped him on the shoulder. Static almost jumped a foot. He'd forgotten the robot was there. Backpack was pointing across the almost-foyer at a door marked STAIRS.

Static opened his mouth to ask if Backpack thought Richie might be there, but then simply turned towards the stairs. Backpack almost surely knew this place better than he, Static, did. Richie had a photographic memory, so Backpack probably had the entire layout memorized. _Though why he thinks Richie is down there is beyond me._

Static opened the door to the stairs and slipped into the stairwell, letting the door close behind him. He might have worried about the loud bang the door made when it closed… except that suddenly he heard what Backpack must have been hearing all along. True, the sounds were little more than strangled cries, but Static didn't doubt that Backpack had heard them, maybe even from outside.

_Richie! Richie!_

Backpack tightened his "arms" on Static's shoulders and the superhero took it for the warning and reminder it was: be careful. He floated down the stairs on his saucer, watching ahead of him for the first sign of danger. But it was hard to concentrate on anything but Richie's cries of pain and the anger that bloomed in the African-American's own mind.

There was a bend at the end of the stairs, and when Static reached it he peered cautiously around the corner. He could hear his heart pounding in his ears, and his hands balled into fists.

A short distance away, a half-circle of men had their backs to him. Static took in the white robes and his fists glowed with electricity. If Backpack warned him to be careful, Static didn't feel it. Beyond the men, his hands tied above his head, his back raw and bleeding, was Richie. His head was down, and in the pause between blows, Static could hear how he breathed: as if a sob threatened to escape his lips on every exhalation.

_You're dead._ Static flew around the corner, his fists on fire with energy. He hit two of the white-robes with one blast, then hit another two. His eyes flashed and he was screaming, though he couldn't hear himself. All he cared about was Richie… Richie, bleeding and trapped and releasing breaths that trembled like sobs.

Those that had surrounded Richie now lay on the floor. One of them had hit his head badly; blood trickled from a cut hidden beneath his hood. The others, less thoroughly hurt but stunned nonetheless, watched the vengeful, electrical demon untie the boy they had been punishing. The demon lifted the boy into his arms and cradled him against his chest. The boy was crying, and he clung to the demon's clothes.

The door above them banged open and a half-dozen pairs of feet thundered down the steps. These men, too, wore white robes, but many of their hoods were thrown back. Some carried knives. Two carried guns. Those that had been handily beaten by Static found their backbone as the reinforcements arrived.

Static snarled and turned to face them, leaving Richie huddled on the floor, shivering.

_Static isn't thinking clearly._ Backpack wanted to slap the superhero. _It wouldn't do any good. And I cannot talk to him! _Unable to speak, the robot did the only thing he could think of: he let go of Static and scuttled over to where Richie lay. Stretching himself over Richie, he tried to shelter the blond as much as possible._ Richie, I'm here. Virgil's here. We're going to help you._

_V… _

Backpack sensed Richie trying to calm himself enough to think clearly. _I know it's hard, Richie. Tell me what you can and I'll do my best to explain things to Virgil._

_Tell him to watch out. He's black. They'll…_Richie shivered and Backpack hated the sudden tensing of the teen's body. _Please protect him, BP, if he needs it. They know about us… they know I love V. If they take his mask off, they'll kill him._

Backpack was about to reassure him when a bubble of electricity engulfed both he and Richie, lifting them into the air. Backpack looked at Static, and was grateful to see that the superhero was reining in his anger, though his eyes smoldered and his knuckles were white as he fought not to attack but only to defend. _I think Virgil has chosen to flee with us instead of fight, _Backpack told Richie.

_Tell V I'm tired, please…_ Richie passed out.

Virgil wondered if he would ever be able to forget the sight of his Richie, beaten and suffering, coupled with the sight of Mr. Foley rushing down the stairs, his eyes narrowed and a knife raised in his hand.

_But I have to forget it,_ he realized, _at least for now. Richie needs me. _He'd been sorely tempted to blast every white-robed man in the entire building, but when Backpack left him, Static had been reminded of Richie.

_So, instead of fighting, we run. _Static wondered how thick the walls were around him. Then he shook his head and blasted a hole through the ceiling, knowing that it couldn't be too thick. He could hear the sound of more running feet above. _Well, here's hoping I don't blast anyone too badly who doesn't deserve it._ He made himself a very wide exit, dust from the ceiling falling into the shocked faces of the white-robes.

Static carried Richie up through the hole.

Outside, still perched among the shadows, Talon was in a perfect place to see Static leave. He blasted the door open this time, and she shrank a little deeper into the shadows when she saw his anger. The robot Gear wore was still fitted firmly on Static's back, but Talon's attention was caught and held by the figure Static carried in his arms.

Static had stopped just outside the doors. He seemed to be checking the boy in his arms. Talon narrowed her eyes, trying to see if she could recognize the victim. She caught her breath.

_Foley! Foley, again! _Ebon was right; almost every time Static was there, so was Foley. _At least, that's how it was until a few months ago. Then Foley disappeared and Gear showed up._ Talon gazed at the injured teen. _Is he Gear? Could he possibly be?_ She shook her head. _It's too easy. And there's no evi-_

The robot- Gear's robot- reached out with one of its arms and brushed hair out of Richie's face. The gesture, even though made by a machine, was gentle, almost intimate.

_He can't be Gear. He just can't be. It's too easy._

_Then why has he been missing?_

_Like I said before, if he'd been missing, Static would have been looking for him instead of fighting us._ Talon wished she could get a good look at Static's face. Maybe she could see if he was desperately worried or just helping a random victim.

At that moment, Static took off, heading uptown. He didn't look back.

_He's headed for the hospital. Well, that's natural. _Talon waited until the superhero was out of sight, then set off for Ebon's hideout. She wondered idly when Ebon would spring his trap. _Maybe I should tell him to do it soon while Static is distracted… Unless, of course, Static is just helping a civilian and doesn't care a thing for him. _She sighed. Her mama had another saying: _Never tell what you don't know for sure. _So she would wait. Maybe something new would happen and all her speculations wouldn't make sense anymore. _I'll_ _wait,_ she decided. _It isn't as if_ _I owe something to Ebon. I don't have to give him every piece of information I collect. _

But as Talon flew she decided she wanted to share her speculations and observations with someone. _Shiv? _She laughed. _He'd giggle and laugh, then tell Ebon. What about Kangor? No. Just… no. _She frowned. _Aquamria?_ The two of them didn't exactly get along. _Hotstreak? Maybe, just maybe. _Hotstreak, at least, wouldn't tell Ebon. And he knew so much about Static; more than Ebon gave him credit for, it seemed.

_I'll tell him about the robot-thing, what it did. He'll probably tell me I'm just inventing things and then I can forget about it._


	8. Hospital again and Virgil Talks Things O...

A/N: Mothershead is a tip of the hat to another book. I wonder if anyone would ever get me on all the things I borrow? Well, just like Static Shock, I don't own any of the ideas I'm borrowing.

Book II

Chapter One: MeetingsPg. 99

From the Diary of Virgil Hawkins (6)Pg. 113

Chapter Two: In the Middle of the NightPg. 115

Chapter Three: Hospital (Again) and Virgil Talks Things OutPg. 132

Chapter Three: Hospital (Again)

and Virgil Talks Things Out

None of the nurses or technicians could bring themselves to say no to the superhero that carried the bleeding, unconscious teen into the Emergency Room at Dakota General Hospital in the hour before dawn. Some of them were in awe of Static himself (but not so many as you'd think; Static had been Dakota for over two years); others were intimidated by the anger that seemed to make his eyes flash real lightning. There was a third group, much smaller than the other two, which only saw the injured teen in Static's arms. One of these was a seasoned nurse named Mothershead. Many of her coworkers (and especially the young nurses) were intimidated by her.

She took one look at the teen in the superhero's arms- scarcely registering Static's presence- and started barking orders. Twenty minutes later, Richie had been settled in a room and Mothershead pulled the superhero into her office to talk.

Static felt like pacing, but when she commanded him to sit, he did so. She reminded him of his father in a strange way. Perhaps it was the strict, no-nonsense tone or maybe the way her eyes seemed to see right through his secrets. To distract himself from her, Static glanced around the room. The walls were covered with diagrams of different parts of the body, complete with labels and a discussion about what could go wrong with that area in too-large print at the bottom. _It's almost like they want us to think about all the stuff that could go wrong at any moment if we don't toe the line. _Static turned his eyes from the diagrams and found the nurse studying him as he'd been studying the room.

"I suppose you aren't going to stay long enough to file a police report," Mothershead said, "but at least tell me this: the boy's name and phone number."

Static hesitated. Normally, he would have just rattled off the information… but there was Richie's son of a bitch father to consider. Did Richie's mother know what her husband had…?

_Wait._ Virgil asserted himself for a moment.

_What?_ Static demanded. _The bastard-_

_-might not have known what the other white-robes were doing to Richie. Maybe that's why you saw him with the knife. Maybe he was coming to attack those who were hurting his son._

_Do you really believe that?_

_No,_ Virgil answered, unashamed, _but it's possible. But whatever is true, I know this much: give him Pop's number and say that he's Richie's godfather. It's close enough to the truth. Say the parents are out of town or something._

Static swallowed and told his lies.

Mothershead shook her head. "Is there any reason I shouldn't contact his parents?"

"I told you, they're-"

"I don't believe you," she interrupted. "Give me a good reason not to call them right now."

She was reaching for the phone, probably about to dial information. Virgil blurted, "I think it was his father that did this. He's hurt Richie before."

"Does anyone know about this abuse?"

"Child Protection Services have already been contacted by the high school he goes to. They'll be coming to get him soon, I'm told."

"You have been following him rather closely," the nurse noted.

Static wanted to groan. _Now see what you've done? _he demanded of Virgil. _Now she's suspicious! Way to go!_

Virgil took over for a moment. "He's a good friend of mine, ma'am. Please don't call his parents. I don't want anything to happen to him."

"And how do you know this Mr. Hawkins will help him?"

"Richie told me who to call before he lost consciousness."

Mothershead nodded and stood. "Very well. I will call him. You can stay in the waiting room until visiting hours begin if you wish."

"Thank you," Static rose "but I have to find out who hurt Richie. I'll be back when I know that."

Mothershead watched him go. She didn't consider herself a child psychologist, or even a sympathetic ear, but her heart went out to the superhero nevertheless. _If this teen is only his friend, then I'm a first-year intern. _She smiled slightly, thinking of her lover, Cindy, who had helped her make it through college and though all the years between graduation and now. _If you love the boy, Static, more power to you. I pray he loves you back and that you both will use that love for the shield, sword and blanket it is._

Virgil took off his mask and sighed. He could feel exhaustion stealing over him. _There's no way I'll make it through school today without falling asleep. Maybe I can talk Pops into letting me stay with Richie. _

_Richie…_ He was too tired to give his anger free rein, but Virgil knew that when he had energy he would go back to that little brick building and blow it up. He smiled as he imagined all the white-robes running everywhere, screaming in terror. He imagined some of them being crushed by falling rubble; his eyes narrowed and flashed.

He was struggling out of his pants by that time. Looking up, he watched Backpack connect himself to the computer again. His legs only half-out of the pants, Virgil hopped over to the screen. He sat in the chair in front of the computer and yanked off his pants. "I think you and I should pay a visit to those assholes," he told the robot. "I'm sure Rich has built some pretty destructive stuff into you, right? Maybe grenades or acid-spitters or something."

The computer screen stayed blank.

Virgil shrugged. "Well, maybe I'll poke around here a bit and-" he yawned- "find something that can take care of them." Yawning hugely, Virgil made his way over to a small locker where he kept parts of his "Virgil costume". As he slipped a shirt over his head, he added, "Well, Backpack, I'll have to wait to exact any revenge until I get some sleep." Virgil made his way back to the screen, meaning to give it a brief glance, say good night and head home before his father woke up and found him gone.

But when he got to the computer, he found nearly a speech written, and he sat down to read. He forgot his exhaustion as he read.

_Don't you dare turn into one of THEM. Richie needs someone who will be gentle and loving, not someone who will torture the "bad people" and rape the rapists. Richie is going to need you to be what you have always been: Virgil, his best friend, the one who can make the rest of the world go away for a while. That, and only that, is what Richie needs. So put your anger to one side. If you have to blow it off, do it somewhere that no one can get hurt. Don't ever show Richie this side of you; the hating, vengeful side. Richie needs kindness, love and stability. He doesn't need an avenger. Don't hurt him that way. Be his support. That's all he needs. And he will give you balm for your anger in return. Hasn't Richie always been able to calm you down? Hasn't he? Please, Virgil, please don't turn into a monster because of this, not even for a day, not even for an hour. They hurt Richie; heal that hurt. Don't cause new pain._

Virgil sat back, his gaze turned inward.

Backpack waited. If Virgil decided to turn from his anger, then all would be well. If he refused, then he would bear closer watching. _And I would be back to being Richie's only real defender._

A shrill beeping shattered the silence of the gas station. Virgil shot a look at Backpack, then looked down at himself. He took his pager from his pocket. "Shit." He jumped to his feet. "Pops…" He looked at the screen, then at Backpack. "I'll let you know how Richie is after I visit him in the hospital… assuming I'm not grounded by then." Without another word or a glance back, Virgil sprinted for home.

Backpack remembered an exchange between two characters from a book Richie loved:

"I prophesy trouble."

"With that one? I know him."

"He knows me as well, and not with love."

Backpack erased what he had written on the computer, disconnected himself, and began the process of shutting the other machine down. _Yes, _he thought, _I prophesy trouble with Virgil Hawkins. He knows me- not with love, maybe not even with true respect or understanding- but he knows me. I will not let him use his knowledge of me or of Richie to hurt Richie. If he tries, I will do what I must to keep Richie safe._

Backpack jumped down from the computer desk. _I might be more likely to trust Virgil if Brainiac hadn't hurt Richie so badly. But I don't know if Richie can take another blow, and I am not about to find out the hard way._

Backpack considered going back to Richie's room. He felt comfortable there. _I can't go, though. Surely his father will tear his room to shreds looking for him. And even if he doesn't, Virgil needs to be able to find me easily. _He was about to leave it at that; just stay in the gas station and wait. _It's the safest place for me._

_But what about what's best for Richie? Could I get to the hospital, find Richie's room and hide under his bed, or somewhere else, just in case I'm needed? _It sounded like a nearly-impossible and surely daunting task, especially because Backpack wasn't used to doing so much without Richie's guidance.

_I have artificial intelligence, but that means I can make mistakes. _But even as he acknowledged this as fact, Backpack knew what he would do. He missed Richie. He needed to be near Richie. _Only when I see him, and know that I can protect him, will I feel safe._

"…and if you ever disappear like that again you'll be grounded for a month!" Robert finally wound down after over an hour. Virgil, anxious to get to Richie, but knowing that the hospital hadn't called his pops yet, sat with his hands clasped and his eyes lowered. He was praying, but not in a deep way. He prayed between his father's little bursts of words. _Please, God, let Richie be all right… God, don't let Richie wake up alone and scared… Help me destroy the white-robes as you destroyed Sodom and Gomorrah… Soothe Richie while he sleeps, Lord; he needs You… Please help me set them all on fire… I can't let them go free. I'm a superhero and they deserve to be punished. I will punish them… Please wrap Richie in Your Love. He needs You… _

Robert clamped his hands on Virgil's shoulders and the teen looked up, startled. "Virgil, are you even listening to me?"

"I'm worried about Richie. I walked to his house, Pops… I needed to see him." Virgil stopped, dropping his eyes again. He had already explained why he was out, and his pops hadn't taken it well the first time. "I'm sorry, sir. I won't go out like that again."

Robert was about to ask if his son had understood what the consequences would be for leaving in the middle of the night when he was struck by something Virgil had said. Or, rather, the way his son had explained his disappearance. He had used the same tone both times: as if, in the scheme of things, his father being angry wasn't the worst thing in the world. Another drive had replaced the one to obey his father and not get in trouble. What drive?

Robert tightened his hands on Virgil's shoulders and his son looked up once more. "Virgil… tell me what's on your mind."

Virgil blinked. He'd been in the middle of a prayer for fire and brimstone. "Uh, nothing, Pops. I'm just really tired and-"

"-and you're lying to me." Robert folded his arms across his chest. "I want to know the truth, Virgil, but I won't push you. For that courtesy, the least you can do is tell me you don't want to talk about it. Don't lie to me, son."

It was the "son" that did it, as perhaps his pops knew it would. For the first time since he left Richie in the hands of the staff at Dakota General, Virgil was able to turn away from thoughts of Richie, or the equally pressing thoughts of revenge. He met his pops' gaze and saw the love in the older man's eyes. And he saw the hurt.

"I'm sorry, Pops," he whispered, meaning his words this time. "I feel like something has happened to Richie, or that something will soon. I want to protect him. I want…"

"Virgil, will you please tell me what's on your mind?"

_He wants me to tell him what I feel for Richie. He senses it already, or maybe he already knows, but he wants to hear me say it. _Briefly, Virgil wondered if his father would kick him out of the house if he, Virgil, confessed to being gay._ He wouldn't. I know that much. Pops loves me. He wouldn't' do that. He might hit the ceiling, but he wouldn't kick me out. And I don't think he would make me stop seeing Richie. Well, here goes._

"Pops, I do have something to tell you. You'd better sit down, though. It's kinda shocking." His pops sat, and Virgil wondered if he had the strength to continue. _I can tell him. Besides, I sort of _have_ to tell him. I know the next time I see Richie I'm going to kiss him, no matter who's watching. Richie needs me to love him; I can do that._

Virgil took in a deep breath. He wished his father would stop watching him with such laser intensity. "It's about me and Richie. He's my best friend, and you already know how much I want to keep him safe. Well… there's more to it." How to say this next bit? "Someday, Richie's going to be a part of my family, of your family, too, and I want you to know… that he'll be here as more than my brother." _Oh, real swift, Virgil. Nice and concise, too. Want to try that again?_

"Pops, what I'm really trying to say is that I love Richie."_ Okay, that's better, though your neck's in the noose now, you know. _"You know, in a romantic, physical way." His cheeks were hot, but Virgil pushed on, "This morning, right after you left, I felt like something was wrong, and so I went out. I know it was wrong, and I should have told you what I felt, but I was afraid you'd try to stop me and I wanted to see for myself that he was okay."

"And was he?" Robert's voice was devoid of any accusation, but it didn't hold any compassion, either.

Virgil swallowed. "I don't know. He wasn't home. Nobody was." He tried to read his pops' expression, and failed. "I love Richie. I'll never stop loving him. Let's just tackle that part first, okay? Is it okay with you that I love Richie?"

_When did Virgil get so bold? Static, are you directing this little exchange? _But even before the thought was fully formed Virgil knew that he, not Static, was in control. And as to the reason he was bold… _This is my boyfriend we're talking about. My Richie. He needs me, and I need to be brave for him._

"How long have you felt this way towards Richie?"

It wasn't the question Virgil was expecting. He'd been half-expecting something closer to "What the hell is wrong with you?" or even "How can you be gay?" So, caught off guard, Virgil couldn't answer right away. He looked at his pops and saw that the man's face was still unreadable.

"For at least a week." Was that relief he saw in his pops' eyes? He rushed to add, "Probably more. But I only realized it after… I only figured it out recently."

_That was close! I can't believe I was about to say "after Brainiac kidnapped him'. That would have given me a whole new thing to confess- and I'm not ready for that._

"Does Richie know you feel that way towards him?"

"Yes. We've…" Virgil blushed and looked down.

"And how does hr feel about that?" Robert raised an eyebrow, clearly inquiring if he had to ask every question or if Virgil would start supplying some answers.

"He loves me. We've…"

"You've what?" Now there was a note of worry in Robert's voice. He was afraid of what Virgil might confess to having done with Richie.

"We've…" Virgil's blush deepened. Did he actually have to say the word? Doing it with Richie was one thing. Discussing it with his pops was another. "…kissed. And hugged. And… talked," he finished lamely. Put in such flat terms, it didn't sound like much. _But it's everything now. Being with Richie is…. perfect. It's like the whole universe smiled at me and said, "You've done well, Virgil."_

Robert looked a little calmer. "And that's all?"

Virgil nodded miserably. "I can't explain how he makes me feel, Pops, so please don't ask. It's not just a lust thing, though, I promise you that." Virgil's eyes flashed as he once again met his pops' gaze.

Robert was nodding. "I understand, son. You seem to be feeling like I did when I fell in love with your mother." He sat forward, taking Virgil's hands. "But I need you to understand a few things before I give you my blessing."

Virgil grinned. "You'd really…?"

"I will, if you listen to me."

"Okay."

"And promise that you'll take what I say and think about it. I'm not asking you to share my views, or take my questioning for disapproval. If you and Richie truly love each other, I'm behind you all the way. Do you promise?"

Virgil nodded. "I promise to think about what you're saying."

"Good." Robert resisted the urge to sigh. He would say the easiest things first. The things, that was, that would be easiest for Virgil. "Understand that all the rules I set for safe sex, and for waiting until you're sure you love the person, still apply. Preferably, I'd like you to wait until marriage. Still with me?"

Virgil nodded again.

"Next, understand that things will have to change here. Richie can't sleep in your room anymore when he stays overnight. It's not that I don't trust you, but I know how one thing can lead to another. A doctor friend of mine said that young people start out holding hands and end up having sex. So, Richie will sleep on the couch. Okay?"

"Okay, Pops." Virgil thought, _This is easy._

"Virgil, I need you to listen to this one last thing very carefully, and you need to stay calm. Remember that I'm not objecting to your being with Richie."

"Pops, um, what are you so worried about?"

Robert couldn't help thinking of the baby he'd held when Jean had come home from the hospital the second time. _My little Virgil, I don't want to tell you the hard facts of life. I want you to stay innocent. But I can't let you be surprised by anything that Richie might do. You need to be warned._ "I've seen a lot of kids like Richie. Kids that need someone to love them. Kids that need someone they can love. I just want you to know that Richie might just be clinging to you because he needs security right now. I don't want you to be hurt if, after all this is over and Richie's life has settled down again, he wants to just be your friend again."

Robert waited, expecting an outburst. But Virgil only looked back at him, his eyes wide and slightly-vacant. Then the teen shook his head and a grin split his features. "Pops, Richie would never leave me. We're perfect for each other." He stood, stretching and yawning. "I need to go get some sleep. Is it okay if I miss school today? I promise I'll do all my homework, and I won't fall behind. Just this once?"

Robert stared at his son. Virgil looked asleep on his feet. "Yes, Virgil, get some sleep."

"Kay…" Virgil drifted towards the stairs. "If Richie calls, will you let me know?"

"Of course." Robert watched Virgil drag himself upstairs. _All right, _he thought, shaken and more than a little confused, _who are you and what have you done with my son?_

Richie lay perfectly still, knowing that to move would be to awaken the sleeping agony in his back. He heard the murmurs of nurses out in the hallway, and the buzzing of a patient's call-button. Staring near-sightedly up at the ceiling, Richie wondered where his glasses were.

But, much more important to him than the voices outside the door or his missing glasses, were thoughts of Virgil. Where was he? _I'm here, so surely he wasn't captured by them. They don't know who he is. _

But if Virgil had escaped, why wasn't he here? _Maybe it isn't visiting hours. And even if he's Static they might not let him in. _

_But he could sneak in, like before._

_That 'before' never happened, remember? It was during that first nightmare Brainiac sent you._

_Am I having another nightmare? _Richie winced. _Don't think that way! You'll go insane if you think that way! _

_Maybe I am insane; I'm talking to myself. And worse, I'm answering myself._

_Gear? Am I losing my mind?_

But Gear was silent.

Panic assailed him, and Richie began to cry silently. _Please, please, don't let it be Brainiac again. Please. I don't think I can stand it._

_Stop it! _Gear shouted. _Stop it right now, Richie! You're safe; Backpack promised as much. And you know it was the real Backpack. Don't you?_

_Where were you? _Richie almost sniveled. _I called for you, but-_

_I was trying to reach Backpack. Which is what you should be doing, too. Together, maybe we can contact him. He was with Static, remember? If we can reach him, he'll answer all our questions._

_I keep wondering if I'm insane, _Richie said. _I'm having a conversation with myself._

_No you're not. This is an affect of the Bang Baby gas. You're a genius, right? Well, you've just developed more of your brain than most people, that's all. You've developed a way- albeit subconsciously- to get more control over your emotions. For lack of a better description, you have a system of checks and balances in your head. I keep you from freaking out and you keep me from ruining things between you and Virg with my over-analytical nature. Now, are you going to help me try to contact Backpack or not?_

Chastened, but feeling calmer nonetheless, Richie answered, _Yes. And Gear?_

_What?_

_You can be cold sometimes. Almost heartless._

_That's another thing you do for me, Richie: you keep me human._

Dimitri Aidan: Yeah, Hotstreak bothers me, too. And he certainly seems to know a lot more about Static than Ebon does. If you really look at the shows, Ebon knows only about Richie. (I've wondered if Ebon was at all attracted to Richie. Maybe a thought for another fic…)

I've always liked Backpack, and I'm glad he's developed this way. I didn't know he was going to become such a central character. But Backpack has secrets. There are already things he's keeping from Richie, true?


	9. Chapter Four: Worried About Richie

**A/N: This should be the second to last chapter I submit. But don't worry- the sequel's in the works!**

**Also, about the last chapter: I borrowed the idea of Robert Hawkins telling Virgil that Richie would have to sleep on the couch from now on from the story "20 Questions". I can't remember who wrote that, but please forgive me for using the idea. It just made so much sense to me.**

Book II

Chapter One: Meetings Pg. 99

From the Diary of Virgil Hawkins (6)Pg. 113

Chapter Two: In the Middle of the NightPg. 115

Chapter Three: Hospital (Again) and Virgil Talks Things Out Pg. 132

Chapter Four: Worried About RichiePg. 141

Chapter Four: Worried About Richie

Virgil curled around Richie, sheltering him even as he sought the other's warmth. Outside, the wind complained, sometimes whimpering, but more often screaming.

Richie slept on, blissfully unaware of the gale. He murmured nonsense words and snuggled close to Virgil, drawing their clasped hands against his chest, over his heart.

Virgil smiled and kissed Richie's tangled hair. He inhaled the scent of the shampoo Richie used when he stayed for the night. _In other words, my shampoo. You'd think after all these years he'd bring his own. _But it was tradition, Richie 'forgetting' his shampoo at home. Just as it was tradition for Richie to leave a toothbrush at the Hawkins'.

"Virg?"

Virgil kissed the back of Richie's neck. "I'm here, Rich."

"You okay?"

"Yeah. Just enjoying holding you."

Richie chuckled sleepily. "Well, stop enjoying yourself and get some sleep. We have school in the morning." He lifted their joined hands, kissing Virgil's fingers. "I love you, V."

"I love you, too, Richie." Virgil kissed him again. "Go back to sleep."

"Kay… V?"

"Yeah, Rich?"

"You sure it's okay with your pops that we're in here?"

"I'm sure, Richie." Virgil hugged his lover even closer, smelling the mingled scent of the shampoo and that lighter musk/deodorant that was Richie's unique mating call. _Someday, Richie Foley, I'm going to make love to you right in this bed._

Richie was laughing again. "For someone who's about to go to sleep you're awfully excited."

Virgil tightened his hold on his lover. "Hush up, boy, or I'll have to make you sorry you teased me."

Richie snorted, then moved even closer. Soon, the two of them would meld into one. "Go to sleep, V, or I'm going to go sleep on the couch."

"You wouldn't do that, would you?" Virgil sounded hurt, but he was grinning.

Richie kissed Virgil's fingers again. "Just watch me. You'll fall asleep and wake up with Backpack in your arms."

"I don't think he would stand for that, Rich. I think-" But Virgil stopped suddenly. Something had made a noise, seemingly downstairs. He put his hand lightly over Richie's mouth and then lay perfectly still, listening.

Creak.

There it was again. Now Virgil could feel the tension in Richie's back and shoulders. Either he heard it, too, or he was picking up on Virgil's feelings. Virgil sat up, careful to move so the bed didn't make noise. Beside him, Richie fumbled his glasses off the nightstand and put them on.

Creak-shriek-silence-creak-shriek-shriek-silence-groan-creak

_Someone's coming up the stairs! _How many times had Virgil, as a child and as a teen, tried to slip silently up that same flight of stairs? Too many times not to recognize their distinctive sound.

Richie, seemingly reading Virgil's mind, rolled out of bed, coming to stand on the floor without having made a single sound. He turned towards Virgil and the teen saw the fear in his lover's eyes.

_Of course he's afraid. He's had a very bad scare within the last two weeks. He's still jumpy as a-_

Creak. Right out in the hallway. Creak.

Virgil wished he hadn't left both of his Static costumes at the gas station. He grabbed his desk lamp, pulling the plug out of the wall and wrapping it up so he wouldn't trip over it. He crept to the door, standing off to one side, planning to bean whoever charged through the door. Richie moved to stand with him; he was holding the lamp from the nightstand. His eyes were wide and his knuckles white as he gripped his weapon.

Then, from just outside the door, "Virgil? Son, can I come in?"

Richie relaxed and even released a relieved laugh. "V, it's just your-"

Virgil held up his hand. This felt wrong. "Come on in, Pops." He moved back a step, putting himself between the door and Richie. He raised the lamp a little higher and whispered, "Be ready."

The door opened and Robert Hawkins entered. A noose was tied about his neck and Virgil saw the white-robes who prevented the older Hawkins from escaping. "Take your hands off him!" Virgil shouted. "I've called the police and you're going to be arrested if you don't leave right now."

"You must be a very talented boy," said one of the men, "if you can contact the police with the phone lines cut."

"You don't know about walkie-talkies, do you?" Richie demanded, his voice hard. It was Gear's voice. "So why don't you show a little intelligence and just-"

"Shut up, Richie. You're in enough trouble."

"Dad?" Richie's voice quivered and he dropped the lamp as if it were hot. "Please, Dad, please…"

"Please what, Richie? Please don't kill this nigger? Is that what you're going to ask? Or, maybe, please forgive you? Come home and we'll talk about it."

Mr. Foley's voice had a strange, fuzzy quality. Virgil recognized the buzzing hum in Mr. Foley's voice, but he couldn't place where he'd heard it before. So he ignored it. "You aren't taking Richie," Virgil snarled, his anger white-hot. He could feel electricity gathering around and inside him, and thought, _If I kill all of them, no one would know I'm Static except Pops and Richie. And maybe Richie can invent a way to make my pops forget._ "I'll kill you if you try."

"And that's all your kind knows: killing. I'm only going to talk to my son."

Richie started forward, but Virgil grabbed his arm. "No, Rich," he whispered.

"V, I have to. I don't want him to hurt you."

"Richie, I promise he won't-"

"You seem to have forgotten that I have your father." Mr. Foley pushed back his hood. His eyes glowed green.

Flashback

In the abandoned steel mill, with zombie-like members of the Justice League standing on either side of him, Static saw a familiar figure hiding in a shadow near the wall. He wasn't sure, but he hoped it was "Richie?"

The voice that answered him was Richie's but it held that strange, buzzing timbre. "Your natural electrical field shorted out my thought-control disks."

Static, still hoping that it was Richie; against all odds just a confused Richie, asked, "What are you talking about?"

That fuzzy not-quite-human voice answered, "I am not Richie. I am"

End Flashback

"Brainiac," Virgil whispered. He raised the lamp. "I don't know what you've done to Richie's dad, but don't think being in his body will save you. Leave him and face me man to machine."

Behind him, Richie moaned. "No, please, not again…"

"Come to me, Richie. Together we will build something the likes of which have never been seen." Brainiac/Foley cast Robert Hawkins aside and leaped for Richie.

Virgil swung the lamp, not caring if he shattered the man's skull. But he couldn't move the lamp fast enough. It felt as if he was swinging the thing through water instead of air.

Brainiac slipped past him and grabbed Richie. He lifted the teen off the floor and snarled into his face, "You will come with me now, nigger-lover, and I will teach you to mind me. I will teach you until blood runs out of your ears and you scream yourself hoarse. You're a sick boy, Richie, and I'm going-"

Virgil let loose with every bit of electricity he had, not caring if he hit Richie, not caring if the power shot through Brainiac/Foley and hurt Richie too. All he wanted was to stop the maniac in front of him.

Virgil?... Virgil….

All he wanted….

Virgil, wake up, lazy butt!

oOo

Virgil sat up, his eyes wild, his hands shaking. The sunlight pouring through his window made him almost dizzy and he buried his face in his hands. The sunlight made his eyes water.

"Get _up_, lazy butt!" Sharon snapped, ripping the covers off her little brother. "Don't you want to see Richie?"

Virgil forgot about his tearing eyes. "Where is he?"

Sharon's flippant tone vanished as if it had never existed. "The hospital called. Richie was checked in last night. Static brought him in. Static didn't know who hurt Richie, but he said he was going to find out." She sighed. "Pops is at the Center, and he said you and I could go visit Richie."

Virgil was struggling into his pants. "Is Richie stable? Can he have visitors?"

"The nurse who called said it's okay if we come."

Virgil yanked his shirt on and crammed his feet into his shoes. "Let's go."

In Sharon's car, Virgil thought of another question. "Have Richie's parents been notified?" _Because if they have, there's a certain nurse who needs to be talked to._

"Nurses don't disclose that sort of information, Virgil. But I don't see why they wouldn't be called." She frowned. "In fact, I'm actually kind of amazed that they contacted us. We aren't Richie's family."

"Maybe Richie asked them to call us."

She nodded. "Maybe."

oOo

Backpack settled under the blankets, hidden from all but the most observant by the inordinate amount of bandaging, blankets, tables and equipment that surrounded Richie. And of course the robot made sure that he had a safe place to hide if anyone approached who might want to move Richie or shift some of the tubing or other things around. But until he had to hide, Backpack settled himself snugly against Richie's leg. Richie's hand held one of the robot's "arms".

Up until twenty minutes ago, Richie had been talking in his mind, asking question after question. Backpack ran through the list of questions and answers in his mind, mostly to pass the time while he waited for Richie to wake up.

_Where's V?_

_He went home so his father wouldn't know he snuck out._

_Was he okay when he left?_

Backpack chose not to tell Richie his concerns. Until they were facts, he preferred not to frighten his friend. _He was worried about you, of course, and angry at those who hurt you, but he seemed fine. He was very tired._

_I don't doubt it! _Mental laughter ran down the connection like water rushing over a cascade. _How did you reach him?_

_I used your diagram for a voice-box to build a rudimentary one._

_Really? It must have worked, at least well enough to get his attention._

_It worked… but I hope you will someday build me a real one._

_I will. I promise. _A pause, then, _Thank you for coming after me, BP. I don't know what would have happened to me if-_

_Please, Richie, I don't want to think about it. All that matters now is that neither your father nor those other men will hurt you again. I won't let them. _And, even if he doubted the truth of the statement, Backpack added, _Virgil won't let anyone hurt you, either._

Backpack sensed the fog of approaching sleep curling around the edges of Richie's mind. _You should sleep, Richie. I will still be here when you wake up. If I'm not right on the bed it's only because I was forced to hide. I won't leave the room._

Richie stirred restlessly, then groaned. _I guess I should._ Backpack sensed the teen gathering his strength for just a little more "talk." _First, though… Please try to get into the hospital computer. Find out if my parents have been told I'm here. And please contact the Hawkins' once it's a little later in the day and V's had a chance to sleep. _He yawned. He fought against sleep again, though it was harder this time; the fog was nearly covering him now. _That's if V's not already here, of course._

_I will. Rest, Richie._

_Almost… want to say… to say…_

Gear fought his way to the fore, keeping Richie awake for the final words. He knew Richie would have wanted them to be heard.

_Thank you._

Once sleep had claimed Richie, Backpack had sent a tiny probe to hack into the hospital computer so he wouldn't have to physically leave Richie's side. The probe was now well on its way to breaking through the first level of security codes. Backpack divided his attention between the probe's incoming data- mostly confirmation-seeking messages, checking in with home base, as it were- and Richie's sleeping mind. The robot didn't know if he had any power over Richie's dreams, but he intended to at least observe them. _And hopefully I will be able to help him get through any bad dreams._

oOo

Virgil sank at once onto the uncomfortable, plastic-seated chair beside the bed. He was afraid to touch Richie, afraid that anything he might try would hurt his blond. Sharon found the other chair in the room and drew it closer to the bed. Neither of them spoke.

Richie was deeply asleep, his eyes moving beneath closed lids. Virgil studied Richie's golden lashes, watching the shadows they made on the teen's pale cheeks. _He's too pale. Too pale by far. How could they do this to him? How could his father do this to him?_ Virgil felt fury overtaking him and pushed it down. _Richie needs me. Richie needs me. _He forced the sentence to run through his mind like a circular marquee, never changing. It was the only way to keep the anger from overwhelming him.

After five minutes or so of this- Virgil was amazed at his powers of concentration- the teen broke into his own thoughts. _I will find a time to be angry, a time to punish them all, a time to kill Richie's father. But that time is not now. Right now, and probably for a long time after, Richie needs me. I will not fail him._

Richie stirred, murmuring in his sleep. Virgil, frozen, his fear still very much in place, watched Sharon reach over and take Richie's delicate hand in hers. He watched intently to make sure she wasn't putting too much pressure on the long fingers, and only relaxed when he realized that Sharon didn't mean to move Richie's hand about, but just to give him the comfort of physical touch.

_I wonder if he can feel her holding his hand?_ Virgil smiled. _Knowing Richie, and his Bang Baby genius, I'm sure there's at least a tiny part of his brain that knows exactly what's going on._ _Maybe I should touch him, too. Maybe it would help, _But, at least for the time being, Virgil's body refused to obey. _I can't; not yet. I'll try later when I'm not so nervous about hurting him. I'd probably hurt him _because _I was trying to be so careful. _At least, that was how it worked on tests. Virgil could remember essay-tests in history that he'd studied for so hard that when he got to the test, he froze. _I have to get this right the first time. I can't hurt Richie, even a little. He needs me to do everything right. Someday, when he's better, I'll be able to mess up again. _Virgil smiled sarcastically at himself. _Again, that time is not now. _

Virgil felt a chill claw its way up his back and it took every bit of willpower to keep himself from reacting to the tension that settled into his muscles. _I don't know if it will ever be. Maybe I'll have to treat him gently for the rest of our lives. _

Then Virgil shook his head. _That couldn't happen. Richie's stronger than that._

_But he's been through so much lately. First Brainiac, then his father, then being beaten…_

_Richie's stronger than that!_ Virgil tried to shake off the feeling of Doomsday. _And besides, Pops says "if" is the only word a thousand letters long. Whatever happens to Richie, I'll be here for him. Whether he recovers quickly, slowly or not at all, I'll be here for him. I love him, and nothing with change that._

_But… if I have to take care of him always, how can I make the white-robes pay? How can I kill those who don't deserve to live?_

Virgil chewed his lip and stared at Sharon's hand atop Richie's. She was tracing light circles on his skin with her thumb. It occurred to Virgil that he had never seen this side of Sharon, or at least not often, _and never towards me._ But he was distracted by his own dark thoughts and couldn't stay focused.

He tried to talk himself out of the hatred he felt. _Richie read a book once… I can't remember what it was called, but he read me a little bit once that always reminded me of the work Static does every day. It was something like: "Many who live deserve death, and many who die deserve life. Can you give it to them? No? Then don't be so ready to hand out death." That's not exactly right, but it's close enough. And it comes down to the same thing: I shouldn't kill them because I can't bring other people back to life._

_And yet… I can't just let them get away with what they did to my Richie. _Virgil balled his hands into fists and silently seethed. _The bastards should be crucified. I should castrate them. I'll just cut off their balls, followed by their dicks, then-_

"Sharon? Where's V?"

Virgil's jaw dropped. Richie was staring near-sightedly at the hand that held his. Even mostly blind, he could tell who was touching him.

Sharon glared at Virgil, then grabbed his hand and placed it in Richie's own.

Richie turned his head slightly, but a spasm of pain crossed his face and he turned his head back. "Guess that wasn't such a good idea," he said hoarsely. "Hi, Virg."

Gently, so gently, Virgil squeezed Richie's hand. "Hi yourself. How do you feel?"

Richie smiled. "Shall I give you the censored or uncensored response?"

Virgil thought about telling Richie that he didn't have to say anything, but he wanted to keep Richie talking, just to reassure himself that his boyfriend was all right. "Probably the censored. We're in a hospital."

"I feel like Tweedy Bird doo-doo that was baked on hot asphalt, then squashed by an SUV." He tightened his hold on Virgil's hand for a moment. "But I'll get better. Nothing can keep me down for long."

It might have been Richie who spoke, but Virgil clearly heard a no-nonsense, tough-as-nails attitude that he usually only associated with Richie when the other teen was in costume. And so Virgil was left to wonder: was Richie really determined to be strong, or was he just trying to bluff his way through all the pain and fear?

But whether Richie was being honest with himself or not, Virgil knew one thing: he had to kiss his lover. And he didn't care what Sharon thought of it. Leaning forward, Virgil touched Richie's face lightly with the tips of his fingers. "Please don't scare me like that again, Richie. I don't know if my poor old heart can take it." And, tipping even closer, Virgil brushed his lips against Richie's.

He felt how dry his boyfriend's lips were. "Do you want some water, Rich?"

Richie looked slightly flustered, though not at all embarrassed. "From romantic words to questions of practicality. Are you sure you aren't bi-polar, V?"

"You'd be the first to know if I was. And that was more of a rebuke than a romantic hint."

"True, but you kissed me, so it had to be at the least loving." Then Richie laughed. The laugh was free, but Richie stopped almost at once, his hand going to his side.

"What hurts?" Virgil asked.

"More than I thought." Richie wasn't looking at him anymore. "Can you call one of the nurses in? I think one of the bandages has slipped."

Sharon stood. "I'll go."

Richie smiled at her, but the smile was distracted and pained. Sharon left quickly.

Virgil kissed Richie again, longer this time. "Aside from the pain, are you okay?" He felt his face getting hot. "You know, up here?" He tapped the middle of Richie's forehead.

"Not bad." Richie gritted his teeth. "BP's here, and that's some help. Wish you could stay until I have to leave."

"If Virgil can't, Static can."

Richie smiled, then winced. "I love you."

Virgil kissed his Richie again in reply. "I love you, too, but shut up. It's hurting you to talk."

"No… just to be awake. This isn't worse than the time I was shot, but it burns." Richie squirmed, still wincing from time to time. "Don't worry about me, V; soon a nurse will come and…" He trailed off, closing his eyes. A look of peace came over his face.

"Richie? Richie, what is it?" Virgil squeezed Richie's hand. "What's wrong?"

Richie didn't answer, but Virgil heard a familiar beep coming from near his feet, and he stared at Backpack in surprise. "Where'd you come from?"

The robot climbed up on the bed and touched Richie's face. Richie relaxed a little more. He opened his eyes and Virgil was stunned by the vacant look in them. He was even more startled when Richie started to speak in a slightly slurred voice.

"I'm drugged, V. Not really, since there aren't any forn… foreign substances in me, but I feel drugged… BP'zzzz blocking the connections between my mind and the rest of my body… It feels like floating… Kinda funky, but not… not bad… I can't stay like this, but… but it helps." Richie offered Virgil a rather dopey grin and closed his eyes again. "Going to sleep, I think… yeah, sounds good."

Virgil curled his empty hand into a fist. When he was sure Richie was definitely asleep, he whispered to Backpack, "You and I have to talk about what you just did to him. Later, and alone. We'll go after I call the Justice League and ask them to send somebody to watch over Richie. It's the least they owe me after I saved the world."

oOo

Richie slept the whole day. Sharon left at about 2PM, and Virgil caught a bus home about three hours later. He ordered Backpack to meet him at the gas station at seven. The Justice League had agreed- or, rather, Batman had agreed- to watch over Richie until Static could come to relieve him in the middle of the night.

Backpack waited until he was sure Richie would sleep through the night before he left. He knew he would be late for the "meeting" with Virgil, but he couldn't care less. Richie still was, and always would be, his first priority. It should be enough for Virgil that Backpack was leaving Richie alone with someone the robot didn't completely trust. _Though, under the circumstances, perhaps I trust this Bat-man more than I trust Virgil._

Batman said something odd just before the robot left. Backpack wasn't even sure that the Dark Knight was talking to him or just thinking out loud. "Richie cannot exist completely isolated and sheltered from the world."

Backpack paused on the windowsill, and turned his sensor-eye to the bed. Richie was breathing easily and his face was untroubled. _I will protect him, shelter and keep him, as long as he needs me._

Now there was no mistaking who Batman was talking to. "Be patient with Virgil. Richie is the center of his world, just as he is the center of yours." The Dark Knight folded his arms. "An excellent way to hurt Richie would be to start fighting among yourselves."

Backpack left. As he made his way towards the gas station, he wondered about Batman. _Richie thinks that the man doesn't talk much. Perhaps that's true with people, but Batman seemed to have no trouble speaking to me. Either he feels less restrained around me, or he felt he had to say something._

_But whatever he thought, how I handle this little discussion with Virgil is none of his business. Yes, Richie loves Virgil, and I wouldn't be so stupid as to strike before I absolutely have to, but that doesn't mean I won't strike when it's time. More than Virgil's love, Richie needs my protection._

When he entered the gas station, Virgil was pacing. "Where have you been?" the teen snapped at the robot. "It's almost eight o'clock!"

Backpack hopped up on the computer desk and connected himself to the other machine. Virgil had already opened a typing program. Backpack wasn't in the mood to be grateful. He informed Virgil, the words coming out as fast as the computer could take Backpack's thoughts, _I have more to do than come when you call. I was making certain that Richie would be all right while we're both gone. And even if I wasn't, I'm not your slave, or your pet. I don't have to come when you call. My responsibility- my _only_ responsibility- is to Richie. Before we can talk about anything else, I need you to understand that. Do you?_

"Why did you do that to Richie? Why did you make him sound like a strung-out junkie? He was so out of it he probably won't even remember what he said to me." Virgil was standing in front of the computer, glaring down at Backpack.

The robot beeped loudly and tapped the screen.

"Yeah, I read it. And we'll talk about that in a minute. First, though, answer me: what did you do to Richie, and why did you do it?"

Backpack said, _You're a fool if you don't understand why I took Richie's pain away._

"He sounded like an idiot!" Virgil shouted. "Why did you do that to him? Couldn't you have blocked the pain some other way? And who's to say he couldn't manage the pain? A nurse was coming and-"

_Just because you call for a nurse doesn't mean on will show up immediately. They're busy people. And I can't stand to see Richie hurting. I had to do something. You might say it's in my programming._

Virgil seethed for a moment, but then he sat down, shaking his head. "I want what's best for Richie, too." He looked down at his hands. "It scared me to hear him sound so… out of it. I'm already worried enough about him as it is." Virgil stood and began to pace. "I'm just trying to help him. It's like everything that could go wrong is going wrong. I don't know how strong Richie is. What if he can't survive this?"

_Richie is much stronger than you think. He will be all right._

"Do you really believe that?"

_Most of the time I do. Richie is very strong, Virgil. I know almost everything about Richie. He has been through so much, but his spirit hardly wavers._

"Hardly? When has it?"

_He becomes frightened and disoriented after nightmares, or just after waking up. Those are the times he is most prone to fear or irrationality. _

"Irrationality? Richie? He isn't-"

_Brainiac changed him, Virgil. Brainiac raped him, but that isn't what I mean. Richie thinks differently. He has gained much experience in a short time. The world he looks at now is slightly tainted. He might be too mature now for you to understand him._

Virgil flared at that, energy crackling around his fists. "Shut up." He wanted to go on, to tell Backpack that he was wrong, but he couldn't think of anything that would put the robot in his place.

_I am only stating what I have observed. Richie needs you now, but there is a part of him that has been through more than you have._

In that moment, Virgil came very close to just frying the robot. Only thoughts of Richie's dismayed cries stopped him. "I'm going home to get some rest before I go back tonight." He stepped close to Backpack and glared right into the sensor-eye. "Don't mess with his mind again. Did it ever occur to you that you might do irreparable damage?" The teen stormed out.

Backpack gazed after Virgil for a moment, then disconnected himself. Virgil's last words had stung. _What I did was for Richie's own good… but Virgil might be right, at least in this: I don't know exactly what my meddling did. I've researched it, true, but… _Backpack stared around the gas station. _What if I made Richie like that for the rest of his life?_ Frightened and in desperate need of answers, Backpack headed back to the hospital. He must find a way to convey his concerns to the Bat-man. Richie trusted the man; Backpack realized that he would have to do the same.

oOo

Hotstreak tossed a fireball from hand to hand. He and Talon had a lot in common. For one, they were loners, neither of them really seeking the company of others. _I might change that,_ Hotstreak amended, and it was Aquamaria he was thinking of. Since they were so much alike, it had always been difficult for them to talk to each other without fighting. They purposely took opposite sides on any issue just to have something legitimate to fight about. If they fought over nothing, the rest of the Metabreed would talk. Hotstreak and Talon didn't want that kind of attention.

"Can you stop doing that?" Talon asked. "You're making me nervous."

"Well, it makes me relax, so deal with it. You were the one who came looking for me, remember? What's this all about, anyway?"

"Static and Gear."

Hotstreak groaned. "Why do you think I know anything more than you do?"

"Because Static's been your personal enemy. The rest of us just want to loot Dakota or achieve our own ends, but your goal in life seems to be to piss off Static."

"He's a cocky candle with an attitude worse than Ebon's. Why shouldn't I want to blast him?"

"I didn't say blast him. You seem to just want to piss him off."

Hotstreak's hands turned into torches. "Are you saying I don't want to kill him? Because if that's what you're saying, I can just roast myself a little turkey dinner."

Talon didn't back down. If she did, she would never get any answers out of Hotstreak. "From what I've seen, you just delight in annoying Static. Now, maybe you're trying to kill him, but I don't know that. If you are, I'm sorry I accused you of anything else." She smiled at him. "And if you threaten me again, I might just carve me a little hot dog. Comprendes?"

Hotstreak snorted, but his torches were reduced to candles. "So what do you want to know about Static?"

"Well, first I wanted to tell you something." Quickly, not leaving anything out, Talon explained everything she'd seen. She ended with, "I'm not saying that the kid in Static's arms was Gear, but is it at least possible?"

Hotstreak was standing completely still, not even tossing a flame from one hand to the other. Talon watched his expression. She was satisfied by the amount of actual attention he was paying to the facts she'd presented. Maybe her guesses hadn't been that far off, after all.

"Why would Static have Nerd Boy's little robot?" Hotstreak shook his head. "It doesn't make sense. Maybe Gear was hurt or something and sent the robot to keep an eye on Static. Everybody knows those two watch out for each other like a married couple."

"What?" Talon squawked. She winced immediately, hating whenever she sounded like the bird she resembled.

Hotstreak was too surprised by her lack of knowledge to tease her. "Haven't you seen what happens whenever one of them gets hurt?"

"I've never seen either of them-"

Hotstreak shook his head. "I don't mean seriously hurt. Just pushed a little, or knocked about. I hit Gear once with a flaming brick. Even though it bounced off him and he barely teetered, Static flew at me like…" He struggled for an appropriate comparison. "… an avenging god or something. And when I was being taken away to jail by the police, I heard Static say, 'You sure you're all right, man?' And Gear answered, 'Bro, I'm cool. Stop worrying. It was only a love-tap.'" Hotstreak grinned, very pleased with himself. "It sounded like they'd had _that _little talk before. Maybe a dozen times, but more likely a hundred. And neither of them was budging an inch. Static worried; Gear brushed the worry off."

Talon asked, "But does it work both ways? Cuz if it doesn't, Static might just be overprotective." It was her mother she was thinking of; her mother who always took care of her new boyfriend, but who was never taken care of by that same boyfriend.

Hotstreak laughed. "Oh, yeah. I blasted Static once and he went through a wall. Two seconds later, a freeze colder than ice had covered me from my neck to my knees. I tell you, I couldn't move for a day, and couldn't make respectable flames for three. Gear's never hit me like that before or since. He was ticked off, and probably scared for Static, too."

Frowning, Talon asked, "They couldn't just be really good friends?"

Hotstreak made a derisive noise. "Next time you see them together- if you ever see them together- take a good hard look at how much they touch each other. Watch especially how Static touches Gear. My guess is he's the more demonstrative of the two when they're in bed together."

"Okay. I'll take your word for it. So, we're back to where we started: was that Gear Static was rescuing from that place? And if it was, what do we do about it?"

"One thing at a time," Hotstreak answered. "First, could it have been Gear? Sure; anything's possible. And in this case, it might even be likely because of the robot touching Foley's face the way he did. But Richie Foley being Gear? That's a little hard to swallow. Even harder to swallow than Virgil Hawkins being Static. I'm glad Ebon captured Virgil when I was in jail; that's the stupidest secret identity I've ever heard of."

"But we all saw Richie Foley near Static. And he knows Static."

"So, maybe he and Static are good friends."

"But he was holding Richie. I know that's because Richie was hurt, but maybe-"

"You're thinking Static didn't necessarily have be carrying Foley, aren't you?"

She nodded. "And if that's true, then maybe-"

"-maybe Foley is Gear." Hotstreak shook his head. "It sounds really wack, but it's possible." He shook his head. "But it still doesn't explain why we haven't seen Gear around. He couldn't' have been missing for all that time. Static wouldn't have given ust he tiem of day, let alone a full-blown fight, if Gear was missing. Or if Static did fight us, he'd turn ballistic and attack every meta-human in Dakota. That's the kind of arrogant, short-fused little stick of dynamite he is."

Talon hardly thought Hotstreak could call anybody short-fused, but she kept her mouth shut on that score. "So, what do we do now? Do we tell Ebon or do we wait?"

"I've got a better idea." Hotstreak was smiling. "Let's go visit Foley. Maybe he'll give us some answers if we're really nice."

"But Ebon said-"

"Screw Ebon."

Talon's mouth twisted.

"Or don't. " Hotstreak was grinning again. "But he can't control me, and I think we need to try and find out what's going on. If we can prove, without a shadow of a doubt, that either Foley is or isn't Gear, Ebon'll call us heroes." He laughed. "Besides, I haven't been back to school in a while. I'd like to see how Richie's doing." He stood. "You with me?"

Talon nodded. "All right. I'll probably regret this, but I'm with you. Do you think Richie's home or in the hospital?"

"No way to tell. But I know where he lives- I've chased both him and Virgil home a couple times. Let's start there. If he isn't there, we'll check the Hawkins'. That's where Foley spends most of his time. And if he's not there, Dakota General's our next stop. He has to be in one of those places."

oOo

Richie awoke with a start. Darkness pressed in on him and everything ached. He had a fuzzy memory of talking to Virg before falling asleep, but the memory was so fuzzy it was frightening instead of comforting. He tried to speak, but all that emerged was a croak. Fear assailing him, Richie tried again. "_V?_" It hurt to talk. Nevertheless, Richie opened his mouth to try again, afraid that his first pitiful attempt hadn't reached anyone's ears but his own.

A hand fell on his shoulder and Richie jumped a mile. His body twisted and tensed and the teen loosed an agonized cry. He longed to curl into himself, but a part of him knew that would hurt even more. "Who's- who's-"

"Be quiet, Richie. You're not ready to talk yet."

Richie blinked fiercely, wishing his eyes would get used to the darkness more quickly. Then he realized he wasn't wearing his glasses, and stopped struggling. He closed his eyes, trying to place the voice. The connection was harder than it should have been, but finally he managed. _Batman's here. But why? And where's V? _His fear rose, but Richie fought against it. This, too, was harder than it should have been.

Batman's new talent was apparently reading minds, because he said, "Virgil has gone home to get some rest. Static will come later to stay with you. Backpack went with Virgil, but he will be back as well."

_Why would BP go with Virg?_ Richie knew he shouldn't speak, but he tried to articulate the question anyway.

Batman stopped him midway through his first painful attempt. "Virgil said the two of them had to talk."

Suddenly Batman's strong arm encircled Richie's shoulders. Richie groaned as he was raised to a sitting position, but it didn't hurt as much as he'd thought it would. A cup was placed at his lips, and Richie drank gratefully, feeling the water unstuck and ease his throat.

"What's the last thing you remember?"

Richie's mouth betrayed his fears. "Clearly or just sort of?"

If Batman was surprised or confused by Richie's words, he didn't ask. "Give me the last clear memory you have."

Richie searched his memory. "I was hurting all over. I asked Virgil or Sharon to find a nurse, and Sharon went out of the room. Virgil sat with me and tried to distract me. It helped a little." Richie frowned. "Then it gets fuzzy."

"Tell me the fuzzy part."

"Well… I was talking to V, and the pain was going away, but it was different than medicine helping me. It was like the… connections between my mind and body were down… or blocked." Richie shook his head. "That doesn't make any sense. Nothing could block those connections _except_ drugs, but I don't remember being given anything."

Batman was silent for so long Richie thought the Dark Knight had abandoned the conversation. When the superhero spoke, his voice made Richie jump. "Go to sleep, Richie. I'll stay here until Virgil comes."

It was easier than Richie would have thought to relax. In no time at all, he was deeply asleep once more.

Batman frowned down at Richie, but his eyes were turned inward. _I don't like this. What is wrong with this situation? I don't know, but I think I should talk to J'onn. Maybe he can help. Or Wonder Woman._ Prideful and self-reliant as he was, Batman knew when he needed help. And dealing with the interaction between man and machine was not his forte, nor was dealing with a teenager.

**minijudi: I'm not that old. I'm less than a quarter of a century old, after all. And I'm still an amateur. I'll consider myself that for a while yet. But I'm glad you liked the fic, and thanks for pointing out that the chapters are getting shorter and shorter. This chapter's dedicated to you because I made it longer due to your comment. Thank you for your honesty. Oh, and I'm glad you found Klux interesting. She was confusing for me to write. Too bad she isn't "real" in the Static Shock universe; I'd love for her to come back.**

**I wanted to let you know that there are excellent authors for Static Shock. Maybe you could try reading "InHuman Touch" or "Green" or many of the others here.**

**tp96: I'm glad you're enjoying this. I'm having a lot of fun with Richie and Virgil… and Hotstreak. I didn't like him at first, but I'm really starting to warm up to him- pardon my pun.**


	10. Chapter Five: Imprisonment and Questions...

**A/N:** There should be one or two more chapters coming. I'm looking for suggestions on whether I should put the sequel in here because it's really a continuation of the story. However, the down side to that is that the plot is almost its own. I'd like to know what you think.

Book II

Chapter One: Meetings Pg. 99

From the Diary of Virgil Hawkins (6) Pg. 113

Chapter Two: In the Middle of the NightPg. 115

Chapter Three: Hospital (Again) and Virgil Talks Things OutPg. 132

Chapter Four: Worried About RichiePg. 141

Chapter Five: Imprisonment and Questions Answered Pg. 158

Chapter Five: Imprisonment and Questions Answered

Gear had been taken by surprise, a thing that had never happened. He had been startled before, or temporarily put off-balance, but to be blindsided by an event that had never even entered his mind… Gear was kicking himself for letting his guard down.

_No. Not for that. Not exactly. I always assumed I could trust him, and I had no reason to think otherwise. There was no lack of caution on my side. If you mistrust everyone, you'll never have allies, and the fight can't be won by one person._ Even as he thought this, Gear knew he was trying to make an excuse. _I'm starting to pick up some of Richie's habits. When I was first created I didn't trust anyone, and my caution has served Richie well. I fell into the trap of trusting those who have proven themselves. Now I am a prisoner and Richie's on his own._

Gear punched the wall of his prison. Mental walls, real in their own way as concrete, only stronger, surrounded him. There was scarcely enough room to pace within the confines of his prison, and he considered himself lucky that he didn't feel claustrophobic. But frustrated and concerned was another matter. _I can't break free. I don't even completely understand how Backpack created these walls in the first place, let alone how to knock them down again. All I know is that I'm separated from Richie; I can't read his thoughts, and he can't read mine. Here's a downside to the balance the Big Bang created for us: if one of us is taken out of commission, the other is only half a person. I'd survive without Richie, but I'd lose every shred of humanity I've gleaned from him. More important, at least right now, is Richie's survival. He will be up against his father, the world in general… and maybe even Virgil if Virgil takes it into his head to be put off by the change in his lover. Can Richie survive that? What will he do to stop the pain?_

Gear hit the wall again with no real hope of knocking it down. _What can I do? I can't even reach Backpack from here to try and talk to him. _That seed of thought gave fruit to a whole new crop of questions, most of them about the little robot, and Gear found himself shaken by a dim shadow of fear. _I will not give in to my emotions. I will not. I will-_

He stopped mid-refutation. _If I can be afraid, maybe Richie has gleaned some things from me. _Gear smiled. _Maybe there are some things not even a mind-linked robot can change. And I can always hope that Richie will remember what it was like before all this._

Again, Gear stopped. _Do_ I_ remember what it was like before Richie's mind was split?_ He frowned and searched his memory. At first, there was nothing, and Gear had to throttle down a burst of wild-fire panic. _That won't help. I need to concentrate. Maybe if Richie and I are still linked in some fundamental way, I can influence him indirectly. I have no proof of that link, of course, but I'm nothing if not persistent and determined to pursue each and every possibility until I find the answer._

Gear closed out every sensory impulse- strange how he could still 'feel' even in the prison that one little section of Richie's mind had become- and cast his mind back to one of his earliest memories.

Flashback

"I call him Backpack." Richie's happiness was infectious. Almost against his better judgment, the small part of Richie's mind that didn't have a name quite yet smiled proudly at their creation.

Static raised an eyebrow. "Backpack?"

"Backpack, heel!"

The little robot scuttled down, crab-like from the pipes above where it had been hiding. In a trice, it had climbed up the back of Richie's legs and settled itself securely on his back.

The unnamed personality in Richie's head thought of telling Richie that he didn't have to say anything, that the mental connection was almost completely formed, but Richie was still dependant on voice and remote commands. He wasn't quite ready to trust his invention enough to allow the full mental connection to occur. _I don't understand what Richie doesn't trust about Backpack. It's only a machine like the Zap Caps or the Shock Vox. Why doesn't Richie wan the connection? It would be so much faster to just think things at the robot and have it obey._

_Then again, I've only been 'in existence', completely formed and able to think, for two weeks or so. Maybe I can't judge yet. _But Richie's stowaway didn't really believe that. Richie's mind had been split, but it was still Richie's mind. _I have just as much world experience as Richie; it's just that I have to tap into mine. Soon, I'll have my own string of memories._

Static whistled. "That's cool, Rich. Maybe I can talk my pops into springing for one."

"I didn't buy him." Richie patted one of Backpack's arms. "I made him."

Now getting pissed off, the "stowaway" thought, _And Backpack's not just a neat robot. He is a surveillance robot. And if Static doesn't want to use him, I will. Someday I'll be a superhero, too. I don't need super strength or the ability to fly. I can use my inventions to deal with the Bang Babies and keep me safe._

_Yeah, _came Richie's mental voice, _I'll just think them into submission. Right. Besides, I've learned that being V's sidekick is where I belong._

From Richie's tone, the other inside him assumed that Richie had no idea he wasn't just talking to himself. _He doesn't know I exist, and I think I'll keep it that way a little longer. If it happens that I have to take over Richie's body someday to help save the world, I don't want Richie to know I'm here. The element of surprise is crucial._

End Flashback

_Richie's right; I _am_ heartless. Or at least I was back then. What stopped me from just taking over Richie's mind? Simple; Ebon stopped me. He kidnapped Virgil, and Richie's burst of love and fear and determination kept me under wraps. It was Richie who saved Virgil from Ebon, convincing the Shadow-man that he had captured the wrong person._

Gear smiled. _Maybe Richie is stronger than I thought. There may still be hope. _

Gear reached out as far as he could with his mind. The walls around him held firm, but he heard a whisper through them. Pressing his ear to the wall, he strained to hear.

V… Virg, I love you…

_Richie! I'm hearing Richie! Is he talking? _Gear listened again, desperately needing to understand.

Please, V, don't stop. I…

An image of sunset and Virgil's glowing eyes shocked Gear and he stumbled back from the wall. The image felt wrong, off somehow, and after a moment Gear understood why. _Richie's dreaming. It's not really Virgil, and Richie wouldn't be this forward. _

He thought briefly of Brainiac. _Another dream. Just one more to confuse Richie. I've got to get to him. _Gear hit the wall with both fists until his arms ached and his knuckles bled through the gloves. _Fuck! How do I help him?_

Gear stood, head down and hands fisted at his sides despite the pain the tension caused. _Calm down. Breathe. That's better. I've definitely taken some of Richie with me. I need to find a way to awaken the little bit of my personality that's in Richie. _He refused to even consider the possibility that the exchange was only one way and Richie didn't have any of his superhero identity within him. _Think, Gear. I can hear a little bit of Richie's dreams… so many I can influence them._

What Gear saw at first could hardly be called dreams. They were like snapshots. But as Gear started to influence them, he could read more and more. He labeled each and stored it in his memory, thinking he could use something from what he saw to help him reach Richie, or maybe even deal with Backpack.

Snapshot One: Basketball at Sunset

The back lot of the community center was deserted except for the two teens playing basketball as the shadows lengthened. Virgil, shirtless in the cooling air, was silhouetted against the fence and the sky above. Suddenly, he turned, his eyes shining. Richie laughed. "Go ahead, V; shoot. If you think you can, make the basket."

"Peep your eyes on this, Rich." Virgil left the ground, one arm arching up. Richie admired the perfect muscles of his lover's back.

Snapshot Two: Proposal

Virgil was kneeling in front of Richie. His hair was wild, and his eyes glowed. "Richie, I love you. I need you. Please, Richie, marry me." His grip was gentle as he took Richie's hand. "Please say you'll marry me."

Snapshot Three: Hotstreak (Gear's first attempt)

Hotstreak stood, fire running up and down his arms. Laughing like a kid at a fair, he hurled a fireball at Gear. Gear blocked it with a light, strong shield, then threw a zap cap- holding water instead of electricity- at the Bang Baby.

Snapshot Four: Brainiac's Lust for Knowledge (Gear's second attempt)

(Gear almost hated himself for using the weapon of fear.)

"I know now that no other race in the universe reacts to rape the way humans do." Brainiac methodically stripped Richie, who lay, immobile but conscious, on the bed before him. "When I destroy your planet, I will keep you with me for pleasure. You react somewhat differently each time I invade you. I cannot digitize your reaction. Therefore, you will accompany me."

Richie sobbed. 'Please… Please… let me go… I'm not what you want!'

"How can you know what I want?"

'When Static comes…'

"Static is dead. The Justice League is dead. Backpack is dead. You are alone." Brainiac spread Richie's legs, coming to rest between his thighs. "Accept your fate."

Richie fought to hide a sudden idea. _They're not here, but I am, and I can still fight. _

Brainiac was kissing him. "I do not fully understand this part of the rape, and so further study is required."

_But I'm alone… what can I do by myself? I haven't been able to escape him yet._

_Wait. I'm not alone. Gear? _Richie's mental voice was strong, and Gear only wished he could answer. _Gear?_

_Please, Richie, _Gear thought, wishing he could really 'talk' to his other half, _don't give up when I don't answer. Don't give up._

Richie faltered as Brainiac began to thrust. 'Gear?'

"I have killed Gear. You are alone, Richie. Submit to me. You are only delaying the inevitable."

Strangely, Brainiac's words gave Richie power. He remembered what Static had said to the computer under similar circumstances. 'You make that sound like a bad thing. I will never submit, and I will never give up. You can either kill me or be burdened with me for all eternity, but there's _no_ way I'll do anything you want.'

(In his prison, Gear cheered, pumping his fist in the air. _Give it to him! Give it to him! Give it to him, Richie!_ And he wasn't just talking about dealing with Richie's created Brainiac. _If Richie keeps fighting like this, maybe I'll be able to join with him again, walls or no walls. Maybe we can give it to Backpack together._ Gear refused to think of Backpack as innocent. He wouldn't trust the machine again. To make a mistake once was human; to make it twice would be idiotic.)

Snapshot Five: Fighting Side by Side

Ebon had backed Static and Gear up against a brick wall. "You're going to pay for crossing me, hero," the Shadow man snarled glaring at Static. He hardly seemed to notice Gear, which suited the blond teen just fine. He could use his new invention more easily if he was being ignored.

"You've been saying that for years. What's so different this time?" Static asked. Behind his back, he was making an energy ball. He glanced at Gear, and saw the zap cap ready behind his partner's back. Gear didn't have to be told told what his partner wanted: wait: let me hit and blind him. Then you get him. Static winked at Gear and launched the energy ball.

Snapshot Six: Brainiac Bomb

Richie kept very still. Brainiac had left him on the floor while the supercomputer built its new body. Richie was supposed to be under its control- _but I'm a little stronger than it thinks. Or at least a little smarter than it thinks. _Richie smiled as he thought of the bomb hidden just behind Brainiac. _Backpack's main memory will be protected by the shield I built, shield, but Brainiac is still weak. I can kill him with that bomb._

Richie took a deep breath and set the bomb off.

(_Well,_ Gear thought, _it could never have worked that way, but it was a good attempt. Come on, Richie, hear me. We can conquer this thing together._)

Richie slipped out of his dreams and into uninterrupted sleep. Gear watched for a while, but he, too, was tired. His last thought before falling asleep was: _When I wake up, maybe the walls will be down and I can join with Richie again. Maybe there's a way to re-fuse our minds so we can't be split apart again. _There was a part of Gear that liked being separate from Richie, but he knew that he would still "exist" at least in a mental sense. Gear wouldn't have a separate personality, but he would be able to come out more easily, to deal with the world directly instead of switching places with Richie.

oOo

Sean Foley paced. He couldn't keep still. In the chair in the corner, Maggie wept. "Did they tell you anything?" Sean demanded, spinning towards her.

"All she said was that Richie wasn't there."

"Of course she'd say that. She wouldn't want anyone to know, would she? Why didn't you ask her where our son is?"

Maggie sighed. "I did, Sean, but she wouldn't answer. She hang up."

"Well, once I get out of here, I'm going to go over there and make her tell me." Sean slammed his fist into his open palm.

"But, Sean…"

Her husband glared at her. "What? Do you want me to just sit here? Who knows where our son is now? And that black bastard Static is the one who took him. He might be hurting Richie. We can't know for sure."

"But Static has never hurt anyone!" Maggie squeaked. "I'm sure Static just took Richie to the hospital."

"Maggie, you can't trust their kind. And that includes Static. Whether he's a superhero or not, he's still one of them." He shook his head. "Richie isn't safe unless he's with us."

Maggie muttered something.

"What?" Sean strode to her side and pulled her up by the arm. "What did you say?"

Maggie met his gaze with difficulty. "Richie isn't safe with us. He's safer with Static, or at a hospital. No one has ever hurt Richie except you." She waited to be hit. Her husband had never hit her, but it he had been hitting Richie for years. It was only a matter of time before Sean started hitting her.

But Sean let her go and started pacing again. "I was only trying to get it through his thick skull that all blacks are hoods. If Richie hadn't kept seeing Virgil… if that nhadn't turned Richie into a faggot…"

Maggie sank back into her chair and buried her face in her hands.

"Richie will go to Hell now, and it's all that n's fault." Sean pulled at his hair. "Someone needed to do something, and I did. I didn't know they would keep beating Richie. Hell, I was beaten a couple times as a kid; it never hurt me. And if they had only stuck to punishing Richie like they promised-"

Maggie sobbed.

"I didn't know they would hurt him, Maggie!" Sean turned towards her, his expression vulnerable and uncertain. "All I wanted was for them to get Richie out of Dakota, away from that hood. They didn't have to almost kill him." His expression changed; his eyes narrowed and he grew red in the face. "And I was on my way to stop them when that son of a bitch nshowed up. If he hadn't taken Richie-"

He stopped. Someone was unlocking the door of the classroom the KKK had turned into a temporary holding cell.

The chief elder entered, his hands folded serenely in front of him. "Sean, would you like a chance to be redeemed and forgiven?"

Sean ducked his head slightly. "Yes, sir."

"Excellent. We're going to find your son. He will be sent upstate to our facility to for troubled teens." He smiled. "But you will be helping with another project. This boy, Virgil Hawkins, needs to be taught a lesson. Will you help us teach him? Will you help us teach his family?"

Again, Sean answered with that nodding half-bow. "I will."

"Sean-" Maggie exclaimed, rising.

The elder stepped forward and put his hand on Sean's shoulder. "Now is the time to turn away from all earthly distractions and commit yourself completely to the Great Work. Please help us, my brother. We are calling out for your help, and we are fighting to save your soul. Help us."

"I will," Sean said again, not looking at his wife. "What can I do?"

The chief elder led Sean from the room. The door was locked behind them, keeping Maggie prisoner. No one listened to her pleas.

oOo

Static took the chair by the bed. Backpack was crouched on the bed itself, his one sensor-eye focused on Richie. The two completely ignored each other.

Between them, sleeping peacefully, was Richie. Static had checked with the doctors, and Richie would be able to leave in the morning. _Tomorrow he'll go home with me. I'll say I brought him to the Hawkins' because they were the only people Richie said he trusted. And it won't seem out of the ordinary; Static rescued Richie. It's only natural that he would want to see Richie to safety._

Backpack, meanwhile, was using his wireless connection to the Internet to search out a safe haven for Richie until the teen came of age. _There are several choices. First, Richie could live in the gas station with me. It would be easy enough to refurbish it. Then he would still be able to go out as Gear. I would have to find a way that Richie could get his high school diploma. Would he mid getting his G.E.D? That might bother him; Richie doesn't want to been seen as anything less than perfectly intelligent. A G.E.D. may be harder to get these days- I know Richie has thought about it when his father became extremely violent- but Richie longs for a diploma. Maybe there is a high school somewhere that offers on-line classes._

Backpack touched Richie's hand. _And of course there are other options. I could find a wonderful family who would take care of Richie until he's eighteen. I know Richie would be a good "son" for them. Then he could go to a normal high school and graduate. The only problem with that is I would have to find a family I trust. Can I put an announcement and application out on the Internet? Would doing that get me the results Richie needs?_

_One thing is for sure: I'm not going to let anyone take care of Richie unless I am sure of them. All Richie needs are some cruel or negligent adults to be in charge of him right now. And there's no way I'll let him stay with the Hawkins'. I was right to suspect Virgil; he is irrational, hostile and not to be trusted. Richie needs me, and I won't let anything happen to him. He will get over his love for Virgil if I keep the two of them apart. Perhaps there is something to be said for keeping to oneself and not letting anyone else get too close. After all, I'm just an extension of Richie; of course I should be the only one he can really depend on._

Both Backpack and Virgil were too wrapped up in their own concerns to feel the approaching threat. Backpack would have detected the approach of the meta-humans, at least, and Virgil would have heard the shouting down the hall and figured out that something was going to go down.

oOooOo

_It's three o'clock in the morning! _Talon thought, exasperated. _Why is there so much activity? There shouldn't by anybody up and about except the night orderlies? _She peeked over the bushes at the shapes of people passing back and forth behind the windows of the first floor. _Who in their right mind would be up at this hour unless they had to be?_

Beside her, Hotstreak was muttering under his breath. He wasn't flaming, not yet, but his eyes smoldered.

_He's probably just as shocked as I am. Only difference is, I've hidden it better._ Talon continued to watch the people- their shapes made indistinct by distance and the glare of outdoor lights on glass- rush back and forth while she waited for Hotstreak to make up his mind about what to do, and when. _This was his idea. Let him take charge. The last thing I want is to attract attention before we've had a chance to look in on Richie Foley._ He's_ the only one who's supposed to see us._

oOo

_I don't do hospitals. _Hotstreak longed to scream the words. _Why couldn't Foley have been at his house or at Virgil's? Why couldn't he be somewhere I can walk into as easily as thinking? Why did he have to be at the damned hospital?_

Hotstreak, or rather, Francis, remembered well the two years he'd spent in and out of hospitals as the doctors fought against a supposedly-incurable rash of illness. _If they'd run the tests right the first two times, maybe I wouldn't have been in for so long. But NO! They had to trust the tests to interns and not to full-fledged doctors. First the fools misdiagnose the illness as AIDS, then they give me antibiotics that it _says on my chart_ could kill me. Then they don't realize their mistake and take me in for a CAT scan. Then they finally figure out that I have allergies and I spend two weeks recovering. Then- _

Hotstreak forced himself to stop. _Recalling the past isn't going to get my questions answers. Instead of thinking about all that, Burning-Boy, why don't you think how jealous Ebon will be when he realizes you've figured out who Gear is? And even Ebon will admit that once we have Gear, Static will do anything we want._

Squaring his shoulders, Hotstreak turned to Talon. He'd taken note of the people bustling back and forth inside. "We'll have to go to the back entrance. I'll grab an orderly's whites and I'll say you're here for Bang Baby testing. If we're quick and quiet, hopefully we won't run into anybody except Foley."

Talon considered Hotstreak's plan, then said, "Or we could find out what room he's in- you'd have to go in and do that much- and I could fly you to the right window. We wouldn't have to deal with anybody."

Hotstreak laughed. "If you're this smart, how come you're working for Ebon?"

"Why are _you_?" she challenged. "Because we have to. Neither of us wants to go it alone or try to start a rival gang." She looked back towards the hospital. "So, are you going or what?"

"I'm going, I'm going." Hotstreak stood up and strode purposefully towards the main doors. Inside, he was quaking, but he would char-broiled before he'd let anyone know, or even guess at, that fact.

Once inside, Hotstreak took in the confusion in the emergency room. Three women with nametags were arguing behind a desk. A little further on, a doctor was shouting at an intern. _Give to him good, doc, _Hotstreak thought, grinning. And, nearer at hand, people crowded in plastic chairs. Some of them looked shocked, others angry. But the vast majority of them were terrified. A child was crying and his mother was trying to comfort him. _Well, kid, this place makes me want to cry, too. Welcome to the real world._

Hotstreak started towards the desk, thinking to interrupt the arguing women. How else would he get the information he needed? But he stopped halfway there and looked back at the huddled mass of people. Hotstreak knew from experience that total strangers didn't normally like to be right next to each other. Yet all these people were crowded as far away from the main doors as possible, some actually sitting on the floor in front of others, even though there were plenty of empty chairs. _What's got them so spooked? It can't possibly be this place- I'm not the only one to have suffered in a hospital, but all these people couldn't be thinking the same way I am._

As Hotstreak continued to watch the people, he realized that their behavior was familiar to him. _This is the way they act whenever a Bang Baby shows up. This is how they cower when they see me. _Well, no one was looking at him now. They were too wrapped up in whatever had just happened. _And it doesn't look like it's over. What have I walked into?_

Hotstreak glanced around again, confirming that he didn't see anyone standing around with guns. _There's no one here right now; why don't those people just run out? Has somebody called the police? Oh, _that _would just be perfect. Someone calls the cops and I get busted without even having done what I came for. _Hotstreak strode purposefully towards the desk. He looked at the women more closely, noticing for the first tiem that they seemed more frightened than angry.

A man shouted, "Everybody hit the floor!"

Hotstreak considered turning to see who it was, but decided he didn't want to draw attention to himself. He put his face in the crook of his elbow so he could see. Someone in a white sheet strode past him. The sheet brushed the floor, and Hotstreak was seized by a mad urge to grab the sheet and say something smart like, "Nice dress." He resisted the urge and simply watched the man walk to the desk.

"One of you get up. I want to know something."

There was the sound of shuffling, then a woman asked, "Can I help you, sir?"

"Well, at least you're polite. Where's Richard Osgood Foley's room?"

Hotstreak couldn't believe his luck, both good and bad. He was about to learn the room number of the teen he was looking for… but apparently others had gotten there before him. _And what could they want with Foley? _He frowned. _Who are they, anyway? Do they all wear sheets? What kinds of criminals wear sheets they could easily trip over? That's the stupidest thing-_

Then Hotstreak had to laugh at himself. _I'm an idiot. Just because blacks and whites fight side by side in Dakota doesn't mean all racism is gone. I think that was one of the few history lessons I didn't sleep through or skip. The Ku Klux Klan… and didn't Mr. Nilsson say there are still pockets of the organization hiding around the country._

"He's in room thirty-three forty," the woman at the desk said.

_Way to protect your patients, lady, _Hotstreak thought, feeling a rush of loathing. He almost hoped the guy in the sheet would kill her just to teach her a lesson.

"Thank you. You may lay down again."

Hotstreak watched the man disappear through a door. Slwoly, everyone go to to their feet. Hotstreak left the hospital. _They're idiots. Don't they think people will leave and the police will be after them?_

That was when the bullet whizzed past his ear. Hotstreak spun around. He took in the three sheeted figures and the guns they carried. The one in the middle said, "Get back inside, son. We have no beef with you." He almost sounded as if he were smiling.

Hotstreak lit his fists. "If you try that again, I'll make myself some white chicken breasts." He took a step forward, grinning. He was well aware that he couldn't stop bullets… but those he faced didn't know that.

The three men exchanged a look, then turned and ran for the doors of the hospital.

"I thought you'd see it my way," Hotstreak muttered. He jogged back to the bushes where he'd left Talon. _If we're going to get to Foley before those guys do, we'll have to move fast. _He shook his head. _But why would they want him in the first place? He's white_

oOo

In Richie's mind, Gear came awake with a start. The walls around him were thin; he sensed the change in them. At once, he was on his feet. He pounded at the walls and shouted, "Richie! Richie! Wake up!"

The walls held, and Gear began to lose his strength. He'd gotten less than two hours' sleep. But an alarm was going off somewhere, and Gear realized that he was getting a little bit of information from Backpack. Didn't the robot know what was going on? Why didn't he wake Richie? Why didn't he take the walls away?

Gear began to kick the wall with all his waning strength. "Richie, wake up! We're under attack! Wake up, Richie!"

oOo

Richie's eyes flew open. "Attack," he whispered, fumbling for his glasses. Why weren't they on his bedside table where they should be? For that matter, where was his bedside table?

"Rich, it's okay, man. You're fine. Just relax. You're in the hospital, remember? I'm here." A pause, then, "So's Backpack."

Richie stopped hunting for his glasses. "V! Someone's coming! You need to get dressed and-" He squinted. "Oh, good, you're already dressed. You didn't bring my gear, did you?"

Virgil squeezed Richie's hand. On the blond teen's other side, Backpack beeped softly, reassuringly.

_I'm here, Richie. Everything is all right. No one will hurt you._

_BP? How'd you get here? Never mind. Can you feel it? Something's coming._

_Richie, if something was coming, I would have sensed-_ Backpack's audible alarm at last went off, and the robot almost cursed. _I'll find out what's going on. You just rest._

Richie, trusting, turned his mind from one friend to the other. "Uh, Static, could I have my glasses?" Just in case they weren't alone. _Even though I already said V… Ah, well, can't be helped now. Wish I had Gear's ability to switch immediately from sleep to wakefulness. _At that moment, Richie should have realized that Gear wasn't in his mind, but he was too worried about the alarm.

Virgil handed Richie's glasses over, and the teen scrabbled them on. "Rich, it's okay."

Richie stared at his lover in shock. "It's not! Didn't you hear Backpack's alarm?"

"There are probably meta-humans out there somewhere, Rich. It's not a big deal. I'll make sure you're settled then-"

Richie held up a hand. "Listen."

Virgil started to speak again, but the look of fierce concentration on Richie's face silenced him, at least for the moment. Somewhere outside the room, probably on the floor below, came the distinct sound of screaming.

"Someone's coming, and I don't think they're well-wishers," Richie muttered.

"Rich, whoever it is isn't after you. I know Brainiac made you feel jumpy, but-"

Richie sat up, ignoring the flare of pain in his back and shoulders. "This isn't about Brainiac! They're coming for us." He shook his head, angry that Virgil wouldn't listen to him. "I don't know how I know, but I do. And even if they aren't after us, you're Static; you have to do something." He took in Virgil's shocked expression and added, "I'll be fine here with Backpack. Go find out what's wrong."

Static stood. "All right, Rich; I'm going. But when I get back we have to talk."

Richie nodded. _Anything if it gets you in defense mode_, his eyes answered.

Virgil left.

Richie glanced around the room. He couldn't see any of his street clothes, let alone his uniform. _But I really don't want to be found in this gown. _His eyes fell on Virgil's backpack. _Sometimes, I wonder why the other Bang Babies don't figure out who we are. If they've seen Static carrying that around, how hard can it be to check the style of his backpack against other backpacks owned by African-American teenagers who have spiky hair-cuts?_

Well, that wasn't really the issue right now. For the moment, Richie was glad Static had brought the bag. _V's a little taller than me, but I'll mange. _"BP, could you bring me that bag? I'd rather be dressed when our friends arrive."

Backpack hopped off the bed to comply. _I'll protect you, Richie. You won't have to fight._

_I'm not worried, BP. Between you and V, I'm pretty much covered. Wish I had my costume, though. I'd feel safer as Gear._

That was when Richie sensed the silence within himself where there had been another voice. It was strange; Richie had spent more then fifteen of his sixteen years with one mind, one perspective instead of two, but he had grown to trust in Gear, and to count on the new view his alter-ego provided. _Gear? _He closed his eyes and focused within. _Gear, can you hear me?_

There was no answer, and Richie had to struggle against the sudden terror that assailed him. _Let me get dressed, _he thought, fighting for practicality. _Then I'll try to contact Gear again. I can ask Backpack, too._

Richie took the clothes Backpack offered him. It was hard to struggle into them, but with Backpack's help he managed. His back pained furiously when he shrugged into his shirt, but Richie gritted his teeth and ignored the pain. Using the side of the bed, Richie stood and was able to put his jeans on. But there was no way he was going to be able to bend forward and put on his socks and shoes. Backpack finished dressing Richie as the teen leaned back against the pillow, trying not to make any sound of pain. _They're closer now. I don't know how close, but they're closer. I can't let them know I'm in any pain. I can't let them know I'm weak._

When Backpack was beside him once more, Richie sat up again and swung his legs over the side of the bed, his mind turning back to the disturbing silence from his split personality. _BP, can you reach Gear? He isn't speaking to me._

Backpack reached into Richie's mind.

oOo

Gear felt the invasion at once and his instinct was to lash out. _But, _he consented, _it might be Richie. I can't tell much of anything from in here. All I know is Richie's awake now, and that's something. _Gear sat on the floor of his cell, leaning against the wall. Exhaustion threatened to drag him down, but Gear wouldn't be taken by any enemy, let alone his own body, mental and created though it was. _I wonder if Richie's this tired. Hopefully, it's just me and Richie has his wits about him._ Gear groaned. _If only I could get out of here. Then I could give Richie my determination and he could lend me some of his strength._

There came a tap on the wall. Gear leapt to his feet. "I'm here!" he shouted. "I can't get out, but I'm here!"

Backpack's voice came through the barrier, nearly inaudible. "Gear, how did you get in there? Where did the walls come from?"

_It doesn't know? Or is Backpack just playing me?_ "I can't answer either of those questions. Here's one of my own: how's Richie?"

"He is well, thank you. Though he seems convinced that someone is coming to get him. Is that perhaps your doing?"

"I can barely hear you, Backpack; how could I influence Richie?"

"Perhaps feelings carry through the barrier even when actual words don't. I suggest you stop transmitting your anxiety. Richie does not need that right now. He needs to know he's safe."

Gear's mouth thinned to a single line. _It sounds like Brainiac. Not vocally, but word-wise. I don't think it can possibly be Brainiac, but I wouldn't be surprised if… _Gear stopped. Backpack was waiting for an answer. "He won't feel safe while I'm in here."

"He has me. He doesn't need you."

"I am part of Richie. Let me go back to him. With us apart-"

"I am not the one who created this wall. Thus, I do not know how to make it go away. You will have to find a way out on your own. I need to go back to Richie. I will tell him you are trapped somehow. Perhaps Richie will be able to disable the wall from the outside."

_You're not going to tell Richie anything, you lying bastard._ Gear forced his voice to be calm. "Thank you." As soon as Backpack was gone, Gear started "shouting" at Richie again, praying his sense of foreboding, if not the actual words, would reach his other half.

oOo

Static prowled the third floor corridor for a few minutes, making sure that it was deserted except for patients. There was no way he was going to leave Richie if there was even the slightest chance that an attacker was waiting just around the corner. _Of course, the possibility that this is all just in Richie's mind is something I can't completely discount. I know there was a scream, but screams happen for a lot of reasons. And Backpack did say Richie thinks about the world differently now. Maybe he had a dream and confused it with reality. Or maybe he-_

Static heard the sound of running feet on the floor below him. _People don't run in hospitals. Not often, anyway. _He sighed. _I owe it to Richie to at least check it out. And Backpack's alarm _did_ go off. _Resigning himself, and confident in his heart that Richie was completely safe, Static entered the stairwell and started down to the floor below. _I'll check this out, do my superhero duty, then come back to Richie with a fully report. He'll appreciate that I at least checked._

_oOo_

Backpack watched Richie trying to center himself in spite of the pain he must feel. _Richie, what are you trying to do?_

Richie didn't answer at once, and that was worrisome. Backpack tried again. _Richie? Please, Richie, answer me. Whatever you need, I can-_

_Guard the door and the windows, please. I'll be with you in a minuet._

Richie's mental tone was almost chilly. It reminded Backpack very strongly of Gear… and just a little of Brainiac in all the supercomputer's unemotional lust for knowledge. _But, Richie, I'm worried about you._

Again, Richie didn't answer. And when Backpack tried to enter his mind, to see what Richie was "seeing," he found himself coming up against a block. That stunned him, and Backpack took a step back from Richie. He hadn't encountered such a block since very early in their relationship when Richie had been nervous about having a machine connected directly to his mind. _In those days, I talked mostly to Gear when I talked at all. Gear wasn't afraid of me. _Backpack thought of Gear, walled up inside Richie, separated from Richie by a wall that the robot didn't understand. _He thought I put it there. Gear doesn't turst me anymore. And now netiehr does Richie._

Hurt, but determined nonetheless to protect his Richie, Backpack turned his sensors on full and started scanning for the nearest threats. He was, after all, not vengeful. He did only what he had to. _And I have heard the teenagers can be moody, that they can lash out at their greatest protectors. Perhaps that is what's going on here. I'll watch, I'll wait, and I'll be ready to accept Richie's explanation- any explanation- when he deicdes to let me in._

oOo

Gear wondered idly if the situation could get any worse. He'd picked up a couple of facts, and none of them were good. One, Richie was weak; not exhausted, but unable to fight. Two, Static was off chasing down what the Irish used to call "noises in the fog, signifying nothing". That meant the only thing between injured Richie and whoever was hunting him was Backpack. _Now, he's a genius piece of electronics, and he's pretty intelligent in his own right, but there's no way he can stand against most of the Bang Babies that might show up here. And what if it isn't Bang Babies but those lunatics from the meeting hall? Oh, that would just be perfect. If only Backpack hadn't stuck me in here, I could-_

….

_Was that a sound?_

…ear….all…

Gear pressed his ear to the wall.

…way…wall…Gear…

Definitely Richie's voice. But what was he trying to say?

…swer…ear, answer….

That last bit was easy enough to understand. "I hear you, Richie! What do you want me to do?"

….ack away…wall…

_Ack away wall. Back away? Back away from the wall? _Gear leapt back and shielded himself as best he could. "Do it, Richie!"

There was silence for a moment, long enough for Gear to wonder if he'd been heard. Then the wall he'd been pressed against just a moment ago exploded inward. Gear was crouched to protect the softest parts of himself, but the explosion knocked him to the floor. Groaning, Gear sat up and peered through the dust. _We're in Richie's mind, but I sear it feels like this is the real world._

Richie appeared out of the dust. He looked shaken but triumphant, and the hand he held out to Gear was steady. Gear took it. The moment they touched, each knew something of what the other had endured, and both gasped from the knowledge. They spoke at the same time.

"Backpack wouldn't do this on purose-"

"-Static out there when he should be here?"

They stopped, and Richie laughed while Gear cracked a rueful smile and waved for Richie to speak first.

"Backpack's totally innocent," Richie began again. "He's only trying to protect us. I don't know how the wall was created, but it wasn't Backpack's fault."

"He's the only one who's been in your mind besides me," Gear countered. "And I sure as hell didn't create it. And what about the fuzziness of your memories?"

"I don't know," Richie answered, "but there are more important things right now. I'll lend you my strength if you lend me your battle strategies. We're under attack, or will be soon."

"I know." Gear frowned. "Why did Static leave you? He should be protecting you instead of-"

"He's going to try to intercept them."

"You don't believe that completely," Gear said.

"No… Virg doesn't completely believe in my powers of intuition right now. He thinks I'm still under Brainiac's shadow."

"Idiot boy," Gear said, but not without affection.

Richie smiled. "Come on; let's get back to the real world. I held off Backpack to come find you. He's probably really worried."

"Then you do suspect him!" Gear exclaimed.

"No; I was trying to center and he kept distracting me. Now _come on_!" Richie seized Gear's wrist and began to force his way towards a fully-conscious state.

oOo

_I'll get one last chance to try and explain things to Richie before they take him away. He needs to understand two things: first, I'm doing this for his own good and second, he can't see how poisoned he's become. He needs someone to lead him back to the straight and narrow path. Without help, he's in real danger of Hell. He needs someone to look after him. And since that someone can't be me, I'd rather it be someone who can at least be trusted with his soul… if not his body. I could have strangled them for hurting him like that. He isn't the enemy; he was just a victim. Why did they have to almost kill him? It's a good thing I showed up when I did… Not that I could do much good. Richie was taken by that nsuperhero, and I couldn't' stop him. At least he brought Richie here… but God only knows how much he tormented Richie before bringing him here. _Bile rose in the back of Sean Foley's mouth. _He probably raped Richie, or let his "friends" play with my son. I wouldn't put it past a stupid ape like him. I'll bet he said something like, "You have to pay me for saving you. And there's only one payment I'll take…" _Sean Foley fumed. _Well, when I catch him, he'll be one dead n. I'll hang him next to that Hawkins boy, both of them nailed up by their balls. _

He stopped walking, realizing that he was breathing heavily.

"Brother Sean, what's wrong?" The chief elder himself had come with them, apparently seeing how desperately his influence and power to command was needed.

"I was just imagining what I'll do to that nson of a bitch when I catch him. Knowing his kind, he probably raped my son after taking him from the Meeting Place."

"Well, God works in mysterious ways, my brother." The chief elder put his hand on Sean's shoulder. "Perhaps, if young Richard was raped, he will finally understand the filth that runs in the veins of the ns in place of blood."

_Strange,_ Sean thought, _but I don't even know his name. I wonder if anyone does._ He smiled. "You're probably right. It doesn't stop me from being angry, though."

"Righteous anger is a blessing, my son. Never see it as anything less than that."

"If that's true, then I'm the most blessed man here."

The two men looked up, startled. Static was hovering near the ceiling, glaring at them. Energy crackled around him on every side. "And if I'm blessed, you're cursed," Static continued. "So, you have two choices: either leave now, or I'm going to stain those nice, white sheets you're all wearing."

Sean thought of the others of their community sneaking up the other stairs and wished he'd gone with them. They wouldn't stop to take Richie to see his father; they would convey him as quickly as possible out of Dakota to a save refuge. _I guess I'll have to hope that he'll forgive me when he gets out. Or I can always write him a letter._

The chief elder drew his small pistol. "Now, boy, if you-"

The pistol flew out of his hand, attaching itself magically to the ceiling. "I hate guns," Static snarled, starting to float slowly towards them. "The next one who pulls a gun will get his balls fried." He smiled. "I'm in no mood for chitchat. Put your hands in the air or I'll fry you anyway."

Sean wished they had brought more than just five men into the hospital proper. _True, we drew less attention, but this flying faggot can get us both at once. Now I really wish I'd gone with the others._

oOo

Richie opened his eyes and saw Backpack watching the window intently. _BP?_

The robot turned, and Richie could almost see the pain he'd caused. He could certainly feel it, but Backpack was trying to hide it. _Are you well, Richie?_

_BP, I'm so sorry. I just needed to get Gear. I couldn't find him and talk to you at the same time. And time was of the essence. _Richie reached out and touched Backpack with gentle fingers. _I love you, Backpack; please don't ever think that I would block you unless I thought I had no choice. I'm sorry I hurt you. Please don't be angry with me._

Backpack was silent for a moment, then he crawled to Richie's side and touched his boy's face with one "arm". _I'm not angry, Richie. I was more worried than anything. Are you well now? Is Gear with you?_

_Yes… and I can tell you don't trust him, but please remember that he is part of me. If you trust me, you need to trust Gear, too._

_He isn't you, at least not completely. Gear has his own thoughts, feelings, prejudices…_

_Yes, I do, but you'll just have to put up with me. Richie's sure you didn't put that wall there, so I'm willing to give you the benefit of the doubt. Do me the same courtesy._

Gear's tone changed from severe to gentle. _BP, please listen to me. You can't fight the world off alone. Richie has other friends who will fight to the death for him. Rely on them, too. If you don't, you might overlook Richie's safety in favor of what you're comfortable with. I'm guilty of the same thing, of wanting to take on the world alone, but it can't be done if you plan on surviving and remaining sane._

There was silence for a moment, then Backpack answered, _I want to do what is right by Richie. _Another pause. _And by you._

_Uh, guys, this is a great heart-to-heart, but we have more pressing matters. Static's gone, so we're all we have for defense right now._ Richie smiled a little as both presences in his mind jumped a little in surprise and were assailed with embarrassment.

_Okay, _Richie said, his smile falling away as if it had never been, _now that I have your attention… how do we get ready for what we don't know?_

oOo

Talon flew past the windows on the third floor with Hotstreak in her arms. Hotstreak could have just pushed himself up into the air with flames, but neither of them wanted to attract that kind of attention. _Yeah, well, _Talon thought, _I'm not sure how much longer I can carry him. He's almost fifty pounds heavier than me. There aren't any numbers on the windows! Who's bright idea was it to figure out what room the kid was in and then fly up to his window? _She groaned. _Oh yeah, that's right; it was mine._

"Stop!" Hotstreak hissed.

Talon had been so wrapped up in her own thoughts that his voice startled her. She almost dropped him.

"Jeez, watch it!"

"Quit complaining. You just scared me."

Hotstreak shrugged it off and pointed at a window. "There they are. Let's get this over with."

Talon flew closer. "Getting cold feet, Hotstreak?"

Hotstreak grumbled something, then said out loud, "Let's just figure this out for sure. I want to know if we're chasing a stupid wild goose."

Talon hovered in front of the window. Foley was no longer immediately visible, but he couldn't have gotten too far. Talon screeched, using her sound waves to shatter the glass of the window. She flew in and deposited Hotstreak on his feet.

That was when the bucket of water hit Hotstreak right in the face.

oOo

Backpack sensed the meta-humans coming, but at first he wasn't able to get a fix on them. _Have I been damaged in some way?_

_Doubtful. _Gear's voice was flat. _But we don't have time to worry. Let's use our heads. Where come they be coming from?_

_Someone was shouting on the floor below us, _Richie put in.

_That was at least ten minutes ago, _Backpack answered.

_Are you saying we're being stalked by two enemies? _Gear asked.

_Maybe… but I can't be relied upon with my-_

_Let's assume the worst, _said Richie. _We need to be somewhere safe from immediate attack by anyone coming through the door or the window. And we need to be armed. Backpack, what have you got?_

_Plenty for normal humans, but not much for meta-humans. _There was more than a touch of Gear's coldness in Backpack's voice.

_You can make a burst of light if it's Ebon, one big enough help us run a little, anyway, _Gear said. _And if it's Hotstreak, we can use water. The bathroom would be a good place to hide in any case because its interior can't be immeidatley be seen by anyone at the window or door._

_But it would be really easy to get trapped there, _Richie said.

_Not if I take off the light fixture and remove a ceiling tile or two, _Backpack answered.

Richie frowned. _I hate being in a corner, but it's our best shot. Let's go._

_Wait, _said Gear. _I have a better idea. Let's get the water first. See that bucket? It's for dirty laundry._

_I won't be able to lift that quickly, let alone tip it! _Richie cried.

_I'll help, _Backpack said.

A minute later, the floor of the bathroom was covered with soiled clothes and sheets. Richie filled the bucket using a hose Backpack provided ("I can't believe I put that in there!" Richie laughed as they worked) and the robot helped him move it behind the curtain that separated one half of the room from the other. Currently, Richie didn't have a roommate, a fact that eased his mind. No innocent bystanders would be hurt if Richie/Gear/Backpack could help it.

Once they were in position, all they had to do was wait. Granted, hiding behind the curtain might have left them vulnerable, but, thanks to the bed, they had ample cover.

oOo

In a waning effort to control his fury, Static smiled. "You're in the wrong place, and it's the wrong time. The trick-or-treating doesn't start in Dakota Square for another four months. Why don't you go back home and practice scaring each other in your ghost costumes? Then you'll be ready for the main event." Energy began to flow over him once more, emerging from his fingertips as tiny sparks. "Or I can make you real ghosts if you want. It's really no trouble-"

"Please," Mr. Foley whispered. He pulled off his hood even as the chief elder snapped at him not to speak. "All I want is what's best for my son. He has been soiled an I wish only to purify him-"

"And with fire shall I purify my people," Static answered in a fell voice. He formed a ball of energy in his hands. "Catch this, Foley: Richie will never go home with you. He will never be hurt again. I will see to that." He shot the energy ball at the two robed men.

Both of them dove aside. Static's energy followed Mr. Foley.

His Shock Vox crackled to life.

"…Richie… help…"

It wasn't Richie's voice, and for a moment Static stopped, unsure. But then he placed the voice, and his eyes widened. Backpack was trying to contact him again, and without even the voice-enhancer? How could he speak? Static shook his head. Didn't matter. Richie needed him.

Static shot two bolts of energy, catching Mr. Foley and the chief elder. He stuck them to the ceiling. "I'll be back for target practice later," he told them before he leapt onto his saucer and flew to the stairwell.

oOo

When the window-glass shattered inward, Gear muttered in Richie's mind, _Wait for it… _He watched Hotstreak jump into the room. _Now!_

Backpack and Richie lifted the bucket, hitting the Bang Baby with a solid wall of water.

Hotstreak shouted, stumbled, and staggered back into Talon, who was just coming through the window. Talon gave a surprised squawk and tumbled out of the window.

_Too bad she can fly, _Gear thought.

_Not now, _Richie snapped. He was on his feet and backing towards the door, the nowempty bucket still in his hands. He was watching a coughing, spluttering Hotstreak, who was bent double with his arms around his middle as if he'd been punched in the stomach.

Hotstreak straightened, and Richie hurled the bucket into his face. Richie grunted in pain at the sudden movement, but he didn't regret it in the least as Hotstreak sat down abruptly, his eyes open but blind.

Richie reached back and felt the doorknob. He pulled it open and turned, ready to run. Except his escape route was blocked by two towering white-robed figures. Richie gave a cry of despair, and tried to slam the door. Better Hotstreak than the K. Far better.

The two men muscled their way into the room, forcing Richie backwards. Richie staggered two steps, then caught himself. Backpack had put himself between Richie and the men.

"You're coming with us, Richard. It's for your own good." The man who had spoken removed his hood. Richie knew him at once. It was Angela's father. The man was fat, but strong. Richie groaned and took another step back.

_Wait, watch out for-_

Gear's warning came too late as muscular arms encircled Richie's chest from behind, pinning his arms to his sides. "Hold up, little buddy," whispered Hotstreak. "It's just me."

The two robed figures stopped. Then one of them spat on the floor at Richie's feet. "Not only are you sleeping with a n, but you're cheating on him, too? What, one sin's not enough?"

"Try five or six sins," the other one said. "I think your ticket to Hell has been bought and paid for, whore."

Hotstreak drew Richie closer with one arm. He extended his right hand, cradling a flame. "If I were you'd I'd get out. I've burned a hundred people alive. Two more will only build up my street cred."

As one, the men backed away a few steps.

Hotstreak bounced the flame on his hand. "Let's play fire in the hole."

The men bolted.

Hotstreak grinned and blew the fire out.

Backpack moved towards Hotstreak, beeping indignantly.

_Easy, Backpack! _ordered Gear. _He holds the cards right now-_

_-and Hotstreak just saved me, even though I'm afraid of what he might do next, _Richie added.

As if he were reading Richie's mind, Hotstreak said, "If you promise not to run away, I'll let you go. I just want to talk to you."

Richie, hardly believing his luck, answered, "I won't run. They're still out there somewhere."

Hotstreak let him go and Richie turned to face the other Bang Baby, taking a single step backwards. Backpack came up to Richie, touching his leg gently. Richie glanced at him and smiled. Then he met Hotstreak's gaze, waiting.

"You're dating a black teenager," Hotstreak said. "Is it Virgil?"

Richie hesitated. "Why do you want to know?"

"Let's say it's my reward for saving you. Are you dating Virgil Hawkins?"

"Is that the only reward you want?"

Hotstreak nodded. "Yup. It's the only question I have."

Richie nodded. "All right, then; yes, I'm dating Virgil."

"And you're Gear."

"You said you wouldn't ask-"

"I'm not asking. I know." Hotstreak laughed. "I can't believe little geeky Richie Foley is Static Shock's partner." He grinned. "That probably means that Virgil is Static, but I'm not going to ask. I'll figure it out on my own."

Richie sighed. "Now you're going to want something from me in exchange for not telling my secret."

Hotstreak's grin broadened. "You really are a genius." He took a step towards Richie, and the light in his eyes frightened the blond teen, though he refused to show it. "I want you to keep your mouth shut about how I saved you. I have a reputation to maintain. If you keep my secret, I'll keep yours."

"But what about Ebon? He'll want to know this, I'm sure."

"I don't answer to Ebon or to anyone else." Hotstreak took another step closer to Richie. "And you need to understand something, genius. I can overcome any damage you do to my name, with time and effort. You'd never even get the chance to convince Ebon you aren't Gear. Unlike his attempt with Virgil, he isn't going to truly care if you're Gear or not." Hotstreak leered. "Ebon has a side to him that you probably wouldn't want to see. He's attracted to delicate blonds." Hotstreak laughed at Richie's involuntary gasp. "In fact, he's been watching Gear for some time now. And he hasn't minded touching you a few times either. You probably didn't know how much he was enjoying himself when he kidnapped you that time, did you?"

Gear asserted himself because Richie was suddenly reminded fiercely of Brainiac. "The only person who will know about this is Virgil. I wouldn't want to ruin your sensitive rep." He took a step forward of his own; the two of them now stood nose to nose, and Hotstreak looked more than a little surprised at the blonde's audacity. "And even by some chance you tell Ebon, know this: I'm ready for him."

The two glared at each other for a moment, then Backpack's soft beeping drew their attention.

"Static's coming," Gear said. "I suggest you make yourself scarce." He smiled. "Or the bargain's off and I'll take my chances with Ebon."

Hotstreak hesitated, then spun on his heel. "Watch your mouth, Foley; it'll get you into trouble some day." He leapt out the window and was gone.

_Now what?_ Richie asked, glancing around. He felt unsteady and a little confused.

_Now you lay down and we all go to sleep, _Gear answered.

When Static arrived in the room a minute later, he found Richie, fully dressed, asleep on his bed without even a single sheet to cover him.

-

oOo

**Please let me know if I should make two stories or keep going with this one. I'm at a loss.**

**minijudi:** Hotstreak is a confusing character, isn't he? I'm really enjoying writing about him. I'm also enjoying the strange Gear/Richie interplay.

**Dimitri A.:** Don't worry about not reviewing- I forget a lot of times. g I loved writing that Lord of the Rings quote. You're the first person to mention that Backpack is also walking a fine line. I'm still not exactly sure what's up with him, though things are making a little more sense now.

**BH:** I'm glad you're having fun with this. Poor Richie… and even with this chapter, it's not done yet. Plus, there's a surprise ending, but I'm hoping everybody will help me figure out if I should keep it within the same story or not.

**leev:** evil grin… I'm glad I startled somebody with that Brainiac as Mr. Foley thing. It kind of creeped me out, too, even though I knew it was a dream.

**yoarashi:** Thank you for reviewing.


	11. Epilogue

**A/N:** **I'm sorry the epilogue is short- but in truth it was supposed to be much shorter. I'm actually amazed it went on for so long, though I got another idea for the sequel while writing it, so it's good for that much, at least. Any guesses who Fiyero is? And who can guess where I found the name? (It comes from an American musical; I'll tell you that much.) The sequel will be called either "Fiyero" (unlikely, but possible) "Tales Among Friends" (slightly more likely), "The Miracle of Three" (hmmm… maybe), "Lost in Space" (just kidding- I swear!) or "Converging Paths" (interesting, definitely a possibility). Sorry I'm giving you so many titles; I want you to be able to find the story when it comes out. If all else fails, the next story I post under SS will be the sequel.**

Epilogue

Part One: Back with Brainiac (aka Stealing Virgil's Diary) Pg. 183

Part Two: The Present and Richie's Secret Pg. 184

Part Three: From the Diary of Virgil Hawkins (7) Pg. 193

Epilogue

**Part One: Back with Brainiac**

**also known as Stealing Virgil's Diary**

Dear Diary,May 31st, 2013

Hi, Virgil and Richie. Did I scare you with the little "Back with Brainiac" bit? You know my twisted sense of humor… and if you don't, somebody needs to hit you over the head with a frying pan.

Anyway, I can't think of a better way to wrap this up than by putting my own two cents into your diary, Virgil, and thus into the book. I wasn't featured much in the above story, but the next part (my part) will have to wait for Richie's birthday, which is a whole- shit- month away. Looks like I'll be glued to this computer for a while.

It's not as if I'll be giving the next part as Richie's present because it's his birthday, but because stuff… happened on that day. Just like stuff happened ten years ago on June 1st. Like you and Richie kissing for the first time.

I know, I know: it took a lot of writing before and after that event to tell about it, but I somehow don't think giving you a plaque with the words "Your First Kiss: June 1st, 2003" would have been quite as meaningful (or even half as meaningful) as this little novella. Granted, I didn't know what I was in for when I started asking around about your first kiss. Maybe if I'd known, I wouldn't have done this.

No. What I would have done was start more than two weeks in advance. Do you know how hard it is to track down members of the Justice League and persuade them to talk? Now, I know Frieda and Daisy were more than willing to talk, but it was hard as hell to get Backpack to give me access to all of Richie's memories. And it was even harder to get Sharon to give me Virgil's old diary, even though she knew it was for a good cause. I guess she liked having the blackmail material.

Yeah, I should have started earlier. Like maybe six months earlier. But I only came across the date in Richie's planner a day before I embarked on this insane project, so you can't say that I stalled. Apparently, you do this every year, but it's always been real quiet. Certainly quieter than the anniversary. I wanted it to be a big deal this year, first because I didn't' know about it before, and it's an important part of your lives, and also because, well, it's been ten years. That's definitely cause for celebration.

Will you be mad at me, Virgil, for not writing about Richie's recovery, his time away from Dakota, and all the stuff that happened with the Metabreed? After all, Ebon's plans didn't come to fruition, did they? Well, if you're angry, just wait for the next installment when it comes. And I'll bet you can guess what important event happened on Richie's birthday, even though you don't celebrate that event in and of itself. I'm not even going to speculate on the reason for that.

So, here's love to you, Virgil and Richie. You are the most important people in my life, and I just want you to know that I never disregarded the history you had before I showed up, and I cherish it. Now, can you go read something else before I become exceedingly corny?

Always,

Fiyero

P.S. I've left a lot of blank pages so you can write down your thoughts after the celebration. I want you to save those so you'll have something to look back on in another ten years.

**Part Two: The Present and Richie's Secret**

(being a compilation of Richie's musings, Virgil's daydreaming and Fiyero's input)

Hi, this is Richie. These last pages are filled with what Fiyero wrote, what Virgil wrote, and what I wrote. Anyway, this was written on June 4th- thank God for Saturdays- but it's all about Wednesday, June 1st.

oOo

It wasn't the best night for a celebration, but it was the only night that made sense. _Why did the ten-year anniversary have to fall on a Wednesday?_ Fiyero wondered as he wrapped the book. _And why do Wednesdays have to be Richie's late days? I called his boss and begged that Richie be given the day off. I promise that Richie will work Saturday to make up for it. Instead of being sympathetic, she tells me, "I'm sorry, sir, but Mr. Hawkins has obligations that cannot be put off." Obligations? I'll give you obligations! What about his obligation to Virgil? What about his obligation to himself? What about- _Fiyero stopped, realizing that he was dangerously close to ripping the wrapping paper off the roll instead of cutting it like any sane human being. _I'm not exactly a sane human being sometimes, and having shredded wrapping paper around their present from me would probably make Richie and Virgil laugh._

Sighing, Fiyero turned his mind back to the book before him. He had considered writing something on the flyleaf, but hadn't been able to think of anything appropriate. _Well, this is my last chance before I close this thing up for good. _He stared blankly at the flyleaf for almost a minute. _Face it, hothead, you can't stop being pissed at that lady long enough to put words of love on a bit of cardboard. Looks like you'll never change._ A wicked grin split his face, and Fiyero muttered, "So, if I can't change who I am, why don't I just write what I want to write?" He snagged a pen from Richie's desk and wrote:

I want you both to know that

you are the source of my greatest

pain, ecstasy, passion, fear and love.

Don't let it go to your heads.

–Fiyero

His grin widened. _There. Deal with _that He remembered a phrase Richie used when he was exceptionally angry. It was a phrase Richie had picked up from an Irish legend, and it never failed to slip out of his mouth when he was ticked off and ready to fight. Some people were amused by Richie's phrase, but those were the stupid ones. Most saw Richie's (or Gear's) fury and were bright enough to know they'd done something unforgivable and they'd better get lost if they didn't want to lose one or more of their balls. Richie's saying, spoken between clenched teeth and in a thick Irish accent Fiyero didn't even know the origin of, was simple, archaic and almost amusing: _And may you have joy of it, ye blarney bastards._

_Not that I've seen Richie mad at me, but he's lost it on others "close" to us. _Fiyero still marveled that the famed Foley rage hadn't been visited upon him, but he wasn't one to complain about good fortune.

He at last finished wrapping the book and stood. Fiyero returned Richie's pen to its place. Richie was organized in all but his scientific ventures, and the extreme contrast between his worktable in the basement and the rest of the house wasn't lost on anybody who saw the two.

_There. All set. Now, I just have to make sure Sharon's got the dinner set up… Take-out, of course, but take-out of the highest quality. _Fiyero smiled. At first, he had thought that Virgil was just teasing his sister… until the red-head tasted the food for himself. _We're lucky Richie can cook, and I can do a little bit, and Virgil can make excellent sandwiches. I don't know what we would have done if Virgil had been like his sister, or if Richie and I weren't at least semi-competent in the kitchen._

Downstairs, Fiyero set the present on the coffee table amid the few others, and went into the dining room. Sharon was washing up the dishes in the sink, something Fiyero had been meaning to do… _but I put it off because I hate washing dishes. So does Virgil. Small wonder, really. I wonder if Richie even gets sick of it._ Then Fiyero had to smile. _Nah. Richie hates dusting and vacuuming, so it's worth it to him to always do dishes if Virgil and I do that other stuff._

Sharon glanced over her shoulder at him. "What time did you say Richie will be home?"

"Normally he wouldn't be home until eight, but Virgil's going to get him. Richie can finish whatever he has to in the morning- he doesn't have anything til noon."

"So he'll be home… when?" She had turned back to the sink.

"Six-thirty."

She glanced up at the clock and swore. I followed her gaze, thinking, _She's overreacting. It's only five at the absolute lat- SHIT! _The clock read six thirty-five.

oOo

It was only a thirty-minute ride from their small home to the research-and-development facility where Richie worked, but still the blonde had fallen asleep in the passenger seat. Virgil shook his head as he drove, turning down the radio so it wouldn't wake up his lover.

_What were you doing today, Rich? _He shook his head again. _No, the real question is, what kept you up so late last night that you only got an hour's worth of sleep? Was it job-related or superhero-related? And whichever it was, couldn't it have waited until the weekend?_ But there was no rest for Static and Gear, and apparently Richie wasn't going to let a little thing like lack of sleep keep him from doing his other job as well.

_I'm glad I'm only my Pops' vice president. That means I get paid to do what I used to do in high school: hang around the Center and help kids. You could say it's turned into the family business, what with Sharon dropping by once a week, taking time from her counseling work across town to talk to troubled inner-city kids. And Fiyero does his share of helping out at the Center, too. _Virgil sighed. _Someday, people will forget that he was dangerous once, and Fiyero will be able to get a job. But for now, people don't trust. Maybe if Richie's boss moves him, or if he decides to take that contracting offer from the government, we could all go somewhere and get a fresh start. Bang Babies were rarely national news, after all. Or maybe it's just time to call in a favor from Batman or one of the other members of the League._

Virgil turned the corner onto their street, and Richie opened his eyes, yawning. "Home already?" he asked, blinking and pushing up his glasses to rub at his eyes.

"Yup. You slept through the call from Backpack, though, so I-"

Richie sat up so fast he nearly banged his head on the car's low ceiling. "What?"

Virgil smiled weakly. "Sorry, Rich; I was just trying to wake you up. Tonight's a special night, you know."

Richie punched Virgil's arm, then immediately rubbed where he had punched. "Yeah, I remember. I'm not the one with date-memory issues, remember?"

"Yeah, I know. You're just the one with insomnia issues." Virgil pulled into the driveway. "Ready for a fun night?"

Richie yawned. "I'll do my best to keep my eyes open." He got out of the car.

Virgil followed suit. "You're so romantic, Rich."

Richie offered his lover a Cheshire-cat grin. "I aim to please."

As one, they entered the house. Richie stopped just beyond the door and gazed at the swept floors, the polished tabletop and the small stack of presents on the table. "Oh, Virg, you didn't have to-"

Virgil put his arms around Richie's waist and drew him close. In the other man's ear, he whispered lovingly, "I didn't."

Richie twisted around and saw that, even though Virgil was laughing, he looked mystified. "What are you talking about?"'

"I didn't do this. I mean, I got you something, but I didn't do any of this."

"You know you're late, right?" Fiyero asked from the kitchen doorway. "And you're letting the moths in."

Backpack came scuffling down the stairs. "You're also underestimating us. Especially Fiyero."

Virgil closed the door. "What is all this?" he asked, looking between the robot and the man in the doorway.

Richie's question was directed only to his creation. _BP, what have you done?_

_I'm making you happy, Richie; trust me._ Backpack scuttled over to Fiyero. "When are the others getting here?"

"Seven. We have just enough time for Virgil and Richie to get cleaned up and changed."

oOo

Adam set Khari and Anansi in the collapsible playpen Richie had stored in the closet years ago. The boys immediately fell to attacking the mound of toys, blankets and pillows Richie had stowed in the corner of the small enclosure.

Straightening, Adam saw me looking at him from across the room. "What?" he asked, a smile pulling at the corners of his lips.

"Nothing. I was just looking at all the stuff Richie bought for somebody else's kids." I shrugged. "It's just another piece in the puzzle I'm trying to figure out."

Adam raised an eyebrow. "What puzzle?"

I glanced around, making sure we were alone in the front room while everyone else got settled in the dinning room, or helped in the kitchen. I took two steps closer to Adam and lowered my voice. "I don't get some of Richie's reactions, even now. Virgil I can read like a book, but Richie does… weird things. Like the time he tried to build a mechanical puppy. It whizzed on the carpet and shorted itself out, but that didn't stop Richie. He's been buying so many toys and things for your boys I almost think he's got a mind to kidnap them."

Adam shook his head. "You can't tell me he hasn't said anything to you yet."

"Said anything about what? Adam, if I knew what was going on do you think I'd still be trying to figure things out the hard way?"

"Well, if he didn't tell you, it isn't my place to say. Did you try discussing things with Virgil?"

I made a face. "No, and I'm not going to. Virgil's a wonderful guy, but he's sometimes a little slow on the uptake. I don't want him to go blurting my half-formed questions to Richie." I narrowed his eyes, hoping I looked slightly intimidating, or at the very least shrewd. "But since he told you, maybe you can enlighten me."

"Nope. Can't."

So much for my threatening look. "Why not?"

"Because if Richie wanted you to know, he would have told you."

"Well maybe he has told us, and we don't get it or something."

Adam laughed. 'Richie knows how thick you are; if he wants you to know, he'll spell it out for you."

"How do you know, anyway?"

"Sharon sensed it, confronted Richie about a month ago, and the rest is history."

I sighed. "Sometimes I wish I was a woman, you know that? Then I'd be able to figure these things out, too."

"If you were a woman, Richie wouldn't-"

"Yes he would," I interrupted, "because Virgil loves me. That's how this whole thing got started." _Shit. I shouldn't have said that._ Now I'm blushing. Richie's and my relationship is just between us, and it's nobody's business how the three of us made peace. "I've put my foot in it again." I turned towards the dining room, hoping Adam will drop the subject. I add, without turning, "Get in here. The food's going to get cold."

I stride into the next room, thinking to talk to Virgil's dad about something or other- or maybe try to corner Sharon and make her tell what she knows. But what I see when I turn towards the window takes my breath away. The sky is on fire behind Richie, who stands before it in profile, his hands held up in a gesture of supplication. His eyes are closed, and I admire the golden lashes that brush his cheeks. His blue-grey form-fitting sweater has pulled up slightly, and I can see a hand-span of pale skin beneath.

Maybe he felt me staring because he turns his head and smiles at me, letting his hands drift back to his sides. "Hi."

It never ceases to amaze me that Richie can sound shy after all these years. "Hi yourself." I approach him and he turns fully towards me, his lips curving up ever so slightly. "Did I disturb you?"

"No. I just finished."

"What were you thinking this time?"

"How happy I am to have you and V here."

I reached up and cupped his cheek.

Richie leaned into my palm, closing his eyes once more. "I was also thinking I don't want anything to ruin this. Our happiness."

"What would ruin it, Rich?" Virgil's in the doorway to the kitchen, holding a casserole dish.

Richie shakes his head. "Can we talk after everybody's left? This isn't a public matter." He turns his head and kisses my palm. "I'll be all right; it's not serious. Please don't let destroy this amazing night." He smiles at both of us, then slips past Virgil into the kitchen.

Virgil sets the casserole dish on the table and looks at me. "What was that all about?"

"I don't know." And I didn't, but I thought it had something to do with the playpen full of toys. I walked up behind Virgil and held him. "I'm sure he'll tell us when he's ready."

"Rich knows I hate to wait. Why does he have to say such confusing things?" But Virgil is smiling, and I grin.

"Because he knows they drive you nuts."

oOo

The dinner was magnificent, from the fresh salad trimmed with walnuts (V's favorite) to the creamed and sugared tea at the end. Everyone talked and laughed and carried on, but I'd caused a little stir, and Virgil and Fiyero were keeping a close eye on me. I didn't mean to scare them- I never mean to scare people- but they've both either heard of or seen me at my lowest, and any time I miss so much as a step in the I'm-happy-Richie-Hawkins dance, they know. Can I help it if I'm preoccupied? Seeing Khari and Anansi does it to me every time. And it doesn't help that Sharon's already cornered me once tonight to ask me if I've talked about my dreams with Virg and Fiyero.

But the true joy of the evening came from the book Fiyero made. Bound in black leather patterned over with lightning bolts and roses. _Where did he get the money for this? _I wondered as Virgil unwrapped the gorgeous book and then just held it in his hands, staring. _It isn't as if we're loaded here._ _And who would make him something like this? _And, on the heels of that, _How much pride-swallowing did it take tough-guy Fiyero to walk up to a store-owner and ask for this to be made?_ That was probably the most important question, and sudden the others ceased to matter.

"Fiyero, it's-"

He held up his hand, grinning at me. "Wait until you read the spine."

Virgil turned the book and read, his lips moving silently. He blinked a few times and held the book out to me. In hand-tooled letters of filigree gold was this:

"The First Kiss" Fiyero Hawkins

I gaped at the words for a moment, then opened the book itself, reading the inscription. The paper beneath my fingers felt old, but I knew how that trick worked. It was the words, and, across from the dedication, the picture of Virgil and I, sixteen again with pie smeared all over our faces that made the tears blur everything out.

I felt someone take the book from me, then I was wrapped in strong arms and Fiyero whispered in my ear, "You're welcome, Richie."

Virgil demanded, his voice hoarse, "Where did you get that picture?"

I could feel Fiyero smile as he buried his nose in my hair. "That's my little secret. Do you like it?"

I pulled away from Fiyero. "Where's the rest of the picture? You didn't throw it out, did you?"

Fiyero shook his head. "That's all there was, Richie. When I found it, it looked as if somebody had already ripped it. Who else was in the picture?"

"V's dad." I sat up fully and took the book back from Virg. "You'll have a lot of explaining to do later."

"I know." Fiyero laughed and rolled his eyes. "But for now you'll just smile and accept the gift, right?"

I snorted. "Right. Lucky for you."

An hour later, everyone was gone, leaving the three of us to ourselves. Even Backpack had taken himself off somewhere. I was sitting on the couch between V and Fiyero, the book in my lap. Both of them were looking at me, scrutinizing me, actually, trying to figure out how much cheese was still on my cracker and how much had slipped off. I bore their regard for as long as I could, then asked, "Do you want me to keep dropping hints, or do you want it straight?"

Fiyero made a noise that sounded like a cross between a curse and a cry of triumph, then said, "I want to know now. I've had enough of guessing."

"Does this have something to do with the puppy?" V asked, and I stared at him.

"What puppy?"

"The one that… you know… shorted out?"

When did V get so perceptive? Then again, even if he's been clueless about many things (like when he walked in on Sharon and Adam kissing when he was fifteen) he's always been able to read me pretty well. "Yes."

"I _knew_ it!" Fiyero cried. "What is it, Richie? What's going on in the pressure-cooker brain of yours?"

Here it was; _the_ question. "I… want children."

Their twin looks of flustered shock were so patented and expected that I burst out laughing. "You two should make a commercial entitled 'what men don't know'. It should have you two staring at your wives as they try to explain they were using some new-fangled pregnancy test and found tout they're expecting."

V recovered first, but I think that was more due to his superhero training than because he'd made the mental connections first. "Uh, Rich, I hate to tell you this, but we're all guys. None of us can get pregnant?"

Fiyero was quicker. "You want to adopt?"

Quicker, but no less wide of the mark. "No. I want to make a baby."

Virg shook his head, his locks flopping back and forth like a jester's hat. "Like the puppy? Rich, we can't raise a robo-kid!"

"I know that!" Olay, it's time to cross a line. Depending on how Virg and Fiyero react to this, I'll either be encouraged or scorned. I'm not as worried about Fiyero's reaction, but Virg was raised Christian. He probably doesn't agree with… "I want to create a baby using our genes. I can do it. I can even give it an environment that will simulate the womb and food just like it would get from its mother." They were just staring t me, so I went on, hoping against hope that they were just stunned, "I've been studying this for over a year; I've read all the best articles and tested my theories through Backpack. There's only a point-two percent chance that the baby won't survive." Neither of them had moved.

I jumped to my feet, turning to face them. "It's better than adopting, because it will be like us. And since the Big Bang changed our DNA, we can choose whether our son or daughter has powers. And it's not even as if it will be your sperm I mess with to make an egg. I'm going to take half a sperm from you, Fiyero, and the other half from you, V, and I'll mess around with my own to make the egg."

Now they look as if I just told them the moon is made of Twinkies. What more did they want me to say? I asked them that, then collapsed into an armchair across from them.

They looked at each other, back at me, then at each other again. V's eyes were big as saucers and Fiyero looked liked he was having trouble coming to term s with reality. "What's so shocking about my wanting a baby?" I finally shout at them. _Now they're scaring me._ _If one or both of them is going to reprimand me and tell me to leave, why don't they get it over with?_

"Is that… what the baby toys were all about?" Fiyero asked.

_Yes, you moron. _Only when his eyes get as big as V's do I realize that I said that out loud. "I'm sorry," I rush on, "I didn't mean that. I just… well, I've wanted to tell you, but-"

"And you told Sharon and Adam but not us?" Fiyero continued.

I could see the flames burning behind his eyes and knew that if I didn't say something quick, and make it the right thing, I might end up roasted. "They only know that I want to have children. They probably think what you did- that I want to adopt. And adoption's okay with me if you don't want to try the other way."

"Except it isn't," Virg said, looking at me. He stood and crossed to me, kneeling before the chair and taking my hands. "I know you, Rich; you want this, don't you? You want to bring a life into the world."

"Yes." My voice hasn't sounded that quiet or afraid in a long time, maybe not since Virg found me crying the night we first kissed.

"Is there any danger to you if you're messing around with your sperm?"

"No; I'd do all the work in a test tube."

He stood and drew me to my feet. "Richie, we love you." He glanced at Fiyero, and the other man moved to stand with us, putting his arm around my shoulders. "If you say it can work, we're behind you."

Fiyero kissed my cheek. "Just make sure the kid has red hair, and I'm behind you all the way."

**Part Three: From the Diary of Virgil Hawkins/Static Shock**

Dear Diary,June 1st, 2013

I thought I lost this thing a long time ago. Goes to show I'm just as disorganized as Richie in my way, even though I hide it better. I guess Richie's right: most of the things I lose have metal in them, so all I have to do is wave my hand and usually what I want appears, along with lost paper clips, pens, pencils and occasionally one of Richie's inventions that has crawled off on its own to hide. Don't laugh; they do that sometimes, though none is half so smart as Backpack.

Richie's completely worn out. He was asleep almost before we finished making love. Poor Rich; he had a hard day today, and a harder time last night. He was probably trying to distract himself with work as he tried to figure out how he was going to tell Fiyero and me his secret. Coming home to a huge celebration probably wasn't the best thing for him. But he was game to it, and so, for a few hours, we forgot about the world of responsibilities and just chilled in our living room with everybody who wanted to celebrate the tenth anniversary of our first kiss. "Everybody" turned out to be me, Richie, Pops, Sharon, Adam, their sons Khari and Anansi, Backpack, and Fiyero.

Of coruse Fiyero. He's the one who put this all together. He isn't in here right now. "This is your night," he told us when the guests had left. "I'll help Backpack clean up and you two go upstairs and shag each other senseless."

So we did and now Richie's asleep, curled on his side. I'll spoon myself around him in a moment, but first I want to finish this.

Richie wants to make a baby. I can't deny that I've sort of wanted children. But I gave it up when I fell in love with first Richie and then Fiyero. I said something once to Richie/Gear when we were up to our necks in trouble with the Meta-Breed: "If anyone can talk the fish out of the ocean or reverse a coming earthquake, you can." I should have known that Richie wouldn't let a little thing like the three of us being men stop him.

Okay, that's it for me. I'm done in. Good night, everybody. Static's turning in for the night. He's curling up beside his Gear, and the two of them will have joy of sleep- Richie's little sayings have a way of rubbing off on me the more time we spend together. And that includes his words of love: _I love you, V. I love you. Whatever happens next, I love you._ I've picked up that last part (no matter what happens…) and I've discovered that I mean it more each time I say it.

And if that's not a happy ending, I don't know what is.

oOo

**A/N:** Thank you to everybody who has reviewed, including those who just started reading this and have just finished chapter two. 

Also, please forgive me for using Anansi, but I couldn't help myself. First, he's such a cool character, both in the show and in African stories. Second, Sharon seemed taken by him in that "Out of Africa" episode that I thought she might name her child after him.

**chaosdreamer:** Ebon gives me the creeps… and I've always thought he paid entirely too much attention to Richie. And I'm really interested in Hotstreak, so I'm glad you like him. I owe interest in him to the fanfics I've read at FF since I didn't see much in him until then.

**darkbunnie192:** I was kicked off because I didn't read the rules very carefully. That'll teach me.

**Dimitri Aidan:** I've been so grateful for your insightful comments. They make met think (which is both dangerous and good).

**Khari Anna:** I swear you're reading my mind about the threesome thing. Do your muses go visiting other people? I should warn you that I have a Labrador who will lick them to death if she catches them. Thank you for the compliments, and for the suggestion. Others told me I should make a sequel, which I've never done before, but I think I've left so many unanswered questions in the story above that I have no choice. BTW, sorry if it looks like I took your name. I stole it from a student of mine. I don't think he'll mind. It was such a cool name.

**leev:** You've given me really good advice; I'm in your debt. And I'm glad you were nervous near the end of the chapter- I was that way at the beginning and in the middle, mostly because I wasn't sure how Backpack was going to act.


End file.
